


encompass the tide

by kurgaya



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Feelings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, Nakamaship, Non-Explicit Sex, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiation, Safewords, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8134594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: tide. noun.the alternate rising and falling of the sea, usually twice in each lunar day at a particular place, due to the attraction of the moon and sun. [Post-Wano] Sanji would kiss him if that were not a terrible, terrible idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dollcewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollcewrites/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **spoilers for the whole cake and wano arcs**. this has been written way before either of these arcs are close to finishing, and then set post-wano, so i'm not expecting any of it to be even close to canon tbh. there's one scene in particular that alludes to sanji having conqueror's haki, but that's just a personal headcanon of mine :)
> 
> this is like 10% smut and 90% feelings just so you know okay. twitter's to blame. (oh, and mer. THANK :P)

 

Luffy crashes the wedding. His haki-defence impenetrable and straw-hat set firm like the grim tilt of his mouth, his presence dominates far beyond his tiny stature, and in the face of a yonko’s army and the Vinsmoke elite, all he has to say for himself is, “But did you ask _Sanji_ what he wants?”

The scandalous look on Big Mom’s face could have only been better had Luffy leapt out of the wedding cake itself. Sanji informs his captain as such once the wedding has gone to shit and Nami’s lightning has reduced the castle to a charred, marshmallow-like mess, and though Luffy doesn’t laugh, Sanji certainly does, but Chopper shrieking about _blood loss_ and _shock_ probably accounts for that.

Brook freezes an outbreak of Nami’s storm-fire and somebody makes a joke about _Eton Mess_ , and it might have been Sanji but he isn't sure about anything except the _clunk_ of his handcuffs breaking away and the feel of warm - too warm; sweaty in fact - fingers gently curling around his wrists.

“Sanji,” someone is saying - and it's his captain, of course it is, voice dropped to that reckoning low. “Sanji, I'm going to kick everyone’s arses, okay?”

“Okay,” Sanji says, because his captain is the horizon where the sea crashes into sky, and his captain has a smile that is not to be denied.

Whole Cake island is in shambles around them, and like a wedding topper once towering over the gingerbread town, the château roof has collapsed through a royal icing ceiling, bringing the centrepiece of the yonko’s castle crumbling into a gooey, buttercream mess. It’s by far the crew’s most _appetising_ victory - their _sweetest_ victory, Brook chimes with a tinkering laugh - but crispy meringue or not, it is a victory that leaves an island desolated and destroyed, and a yonko’s power wavering against the tidal force of Luffy’s will.

 _Good riddance_ , grumble the crew, heaving battle-worn and bloodied bodies at the command of their captain; an unstoppable storm of a crew shaking away bruises and breaks to become a navigator, a doctor, a musician and more once again. They’re not warriors of legends by any means, but as their captain condemns Whole Cake island and the Vinsmoke influence to burn, the Straw Hat pirates would be anything at all, were he to ask.

And yet all he asks for is their friendship; their loyalty, he earns.

In return he gives them everything - and sometimes, even his hat.

“ _Don’t you dare_ ,” is Sanji’s hissed refusal to the tipping of said hat, a hand of shattered knuckles and rubbery warmth reaching up to the straw. Luffy snickers, ignoring his cook’s perilous glare to _plop_ his beloved treasure atop Sanji’s tousled head, and it’s just as well that the brim is wide and bent, floppy from years of love and the weight of dreams, for it perfectly conceals the wobble of Sanji’s lip as he wheezes.

“Don’t carry me,” he tries next, and despite being hat-less, exhausted, and more than a little enraged as his nakama grumbles and pleas, Luffy laughs in the face of such a whine.

Sanji would kiss him if that were not a _terrible, terrible idea_.

“Seriously -” Sanji warns, the verbal arguments his only attempt to escape as Luffy’s flip-flops flap closer, the captain bending down to scoop his wayward cook from the fondant rubble. “- _don’t_. I’ll kick your head in, you shitty excuse for a captain.”

And Luffy just says, “Right,” because he really is a stupid, _perfect_ , little shit.

Then he lifts Sanji up like he weighs _fucking nothing_ , and if Sanji protests a little too loudly and tips the straw hat down a bit too far over his face just to hide his smile, then Luffy is the only one to know.

He doesn’t kick his stupid captain, but he does dig his heel into the boy’s diaphragm and that feels almost as good.

His nakama don’t say _welcome back_ or _we’ve missed you_ , because as far as they were concerned, getting him back was never in question. Brook celebrates with a merry tune, Carrot hopping and bounding and singing around him, her great ears flopping with her enthusiasm. Chopper merely fusses as usual and bustles Sanji into the infirmary, and Nami assumes her place at the helm to guide the Sunny on without a second’s hesitation, snapping orders to the crew and their friends as her log pose whirls unheeded at her wrist.

Sanji doesn’t say _thank you_ or _I’m glad you came_ , but he holds onto Luffy’s hat and that says it all, doesn’t it?

Despite being a little worse for wear, Merry’s golden soul burns strong within the battered hull of the Thousand Sunny as they set sail. The ram-hearted ship appears ablaze against the tangerine sunrise and the copper-plated sea, and it has been a long time since she last felt such desperation to rescue one of her crew - Robin then, from Enies Lobby those dreadful years ago - but now that Sanji rests safe and loved within the infirmary walls, the Sunny is happy to sail on.

She does, undisturbed across the seas to Wano. The crew relish in the peaceful days; there is a country in turmoil behind them and another in front, but with the open ocean stretching blue and wide around them, they could be anywhere in the world if they only imagined it. Defeating a yonko and northern royalty will not be without its fallout though, especially with the Reverie commencing over a horizon away, but Luffy is happy and so are his crew.

Sanji sleeps in fits and starts, drugged dopey on painkillers and yet restless all the same. Being confined to the infirmary is not his idea of a pastime, but when Chopper bats his big, round eyes and wrinkles his delightful blue nose, there isn’t much Sanji can do to deny him. Undeniably, he _hadn’t_ been in the best of health at his own wedding, but he still isn’t going to admit to Chopper how the stress had taken its toll. The evidence of his weeks in captivity are purple and bloody about his body anyway - how he had held his head high in front of the Vinsmokes and only received abuse for his pride, how he had hardly eaten and hated himself more with every meal, and how he had rolled the explosive cuffs about his wrists, at the end, and considered what it meant to be free.

Chopper will be able to deduce it all anyway, medical science simply the tools to piece together the puzzle that Sanji’s broken body presents. Still - the doctor will stand firm by his vow of confidentiality, shaking his fluffy head and ushering the crew and their questions from the room, but there is no doubt in Sanji’s mind that their captain, too, will also _know_.

Luffy’s intuition is untold away from the battlefield, but it is no less a phenomenal sight. _Silent_ is not a state that the captain typically achieves, but at Sanji’s bedside it is silent he sits, eyes dark as they track the cook’s every moment. Granted, Sanji is under strict orders _not_ to move, but it is hard not to shift (not to shiver or sweat) in the face of Luffy’s undivided attention.

The straw hat has found a temporary home in Sanji’s lap, atop the duvet but permanently in reach; always there when Sanji’s hands move unbidden to reassurance, hiding the handcuff-sores and burns at his wrists under the iron-woven straw.

“We're gonna meet Zoro and the others at Wano,” Luffy tells him one afternoon - or morning, or evening, perhaps, the infirmary walls white and still throughout the day. Counting meals is a successful method of timekeeping provided that Sanji is awake, and he doesn't _mean_ to count them (expect them; _not_ expect them) not really, but the Vinsmokes and the Rock are memories blurred together in his mind, and his nine year old self had been little more than fear and self-loathing until starvation (salvation) had come at the hands of the sea.

He's glad Zeff can't see him now.

“Chopper says you need to rest,” the captain relays, and Sanji can't help but sigh.

“I _am_ resting,” he says; _I'll rest when I'm dead_ , he doesn't, aware that their alliance with the Heart Pirates has yet to reap the - arguably - most challenging of its mutual rewards. With the Mink tribe and the samurai pledging their support, Sanji has no doubt that they will succeed in overthrowing Kaido (what's left of Big Mom’s stronghold is proof of Luffy’s strength - their strength), but he knows that they'll need to use every advantage that they have to triumph over the Wano battle-ground.

He's not sitting this fight out. No way in hell.

“You're not sleeping properly,” Luffy says, bottom lip protruding into a pout.

“Not everyone sleeps as much as the moss-head,” Sanji argues, but they both know that Zoro naps only to compensate how scarcely he sleeps at night, so it's a moot point really. Still, a wacky sleep-cycle shouldn’t be enough to warrant his captain’s concern, and Sanji’s scowl promises a furious feud if Luffy thinks that he can make him stay in this damned infirmary.

Luffy shakes his head, hair flopping over his face. He sticks his lip out further, as though how silly he looks positively correlates with how hard his brain is whirring. “No, you're Sanji, so you need to sleep as much as Sanji. Otherwise -”

“You are _not_ leaving me behind.”

Luffy quietens from the vehemence of Sanji’s insistence, and were his hat not scratching the pads of Sanji’s fingertips, its brim would be shadowing the hard look in his eyes.

“I'd never leave you behind,” he breathes, conviction capable of turning the tide - and maybe that's what Sanji is in this situation, stormy waters helpless but to sway with the celestial dance of the sun and the moon.

Luffy’s smile has always been something that the Gods even fear.

“So you'll tell me not to fight, is that it?” Sanji presses, trying to maintain his cool even as his face flushes with colour for the first time in days. His captain may be an idiot, but it's Sanji who hopes and wishes and _pines_ for such an idiot, desperate not to feel these traitorous feelings and knowing that he's _disgusting_ , the lowest of the low for loving him still.

And that's before _Zoro’s_ even taken into account - directionless, moss-headed, senseless, dumb-arse Zoro who seems to _glow_ in Luffy’s presence like it's his _only_ right, like the moon bathed in sunlight and reflecting it in white light and blue. Zoro who lives strong and proud and who loves Luffy whole-heartedly and true - and who would never look at Sanji that way, faithful to his captain to the end.

(Sanji _wants_ Zoro to be faithful - he's a grass-headed lug for sure, but he's not a cheating piece of shit - but what Sanji wants is the crux of the problem, isn't it?)

Luffy laughs, popping the ‘p’ as he continues oblivious to his nakama’s desires. “Nope! Was just gonna say _otherwise_ you'll get sick, and then you won't cook, and _then_ there'll be no meat!”

He sounds so childishly horrified at this prospect that Sanji smiles unbidden, unable to remain angry in the face of Luffy’s joy.

“You're never going to go without meat while I'm your cook, Luffy, so quit whining,” he reminds, poorly masking the fondness in his tone. He reaches one shaky hand out to flick his captain’s nose, and it pings rubbery and pink over the sound of Luffy’s laughter.

“And Sanji’s always going to be my cook, yeah?”

Sanji huffs, waggling his finger threateningly. “What sort of person do you take me for?” he barks, laughing shortly as Luffy’s eyes bounce with the gesture. “ _Someone's_ gotta sate your appetite.”

“Good! Then you should sleep, then cook, and then I bet we'll arrive at Wano in no time! You'll have to make a feast when everyone's back together, okay?”

“Captain’s orders?” Sanji guesses, allowing himself to be pushed further into the bed. Sleep _really_ doesn't sound like a bad idea, and maybe if he naps for an hour or two, then Chopper will allow him free reign over his kitchen once again.

“Uh-huh,” Luffy agrees, hovering at the bedside for a second before tugging the duvet up to Sanji’s chin. “Get better, okay?”

Sanji bites back a curse at how that traitorous _want_ flutters inside of his chest, sunspots blooming over his face in embarrassment. Luffy seems unfazed, blinking an oddly pensive look down at his blanket-bundled cook, but before Sanji can ask after his thoughts, Luffy plonks himself back into the chair.

He takes one of Sanji’s hands in his own and smiles.

“I can wait,” Luffy says - but for what, he fails to disclose.

Sanji tries not to worry about it as he wills himself to sleep, and maybe this is for the best as the serenity of slumber claims him, coaxing him down into a blissful unawareness just as Luffy leans over and presses his lips against Sanji’s cheek.

 

 

They don't speak of it come morning.

Sanji whips up a breakfast worthy of kings and cannot help but wonder if, that too, truly, has always been another selfish act.

They don't speak of it, but Sanji _thinks_ about it constantly. Guilt plagues him as Luffy continues to laugh and bounce and hug and _touch_ , as free-spirited as ever even as Wano encloses the Strawhats into a violent game of chess, the ninja-pirate-mink-samurai alliance and pirate crews alike scattered like pawns and rooks and _kings_.

Neither Kanjuro or Kin’emon are in any state to cheer at Sanji’s rescue once the two halves of the crew crash together again, but Usopp blubbers loudly enough to make up for even Law’s simple greeting, the Heart Pirate captain merely rolling his eyes as Luffy hollers about their success.

The shouting draws attention from friends and foes alike - ninjas, samurai, mink, and even a flash of sapphire fire far above them all - but when has Luffy’s entrance ever been subtle?

Kid swears, “Fancy meeting you fuckers here,” but he looks a right side better than Kaido does, at any rate, once Luffy and his alliance are through with him.

Zoro just takes one look at them - at the crew, at the chip in Brook’s skull and the missing clumps of Chopper’s fur; at Sanji, eyes lingering, calculating; and then lastly at Luffy who yells and cheers just as dishevelled and bloody but victorious as the rest of them, and Sanji _swears_ he can still feel the touch of Luffy’s lips still burning at the corner of his mouth as the swordsman grunts, “Snogged, did you?”

Luffy laughs - _laughs_ \- arms folding up behind his hatless head like this is _ever_ something to laugh about, and Sanji feels a broiling shame lurch inside of his stomach. The string of Luffy’s hat seems to tighten around his throat (he's still wearing though he knows he shouldn't), and the straw scratches his shoulders as he vehemently denies Zoro’s accusation - the observation, the _truth_.

“No! No, we didn't - I wouldn't - I would never -!”

They're both staring at him now, having gravitated together as though just to set Sanji apart, but just for a moment Luffy glances at Zoro for - _what_ , Sanji can never say; it's all the conversation they ever need, the captain and first mate. They've never needed words to understand one another, not even when they're as the sun and the moon kept apart by the raging ocean tide, and that single look is all they need.

“Do you want to?” Luffy asks, and though he sounds as though he is discussing the weather, the sunshine, the _hey, it's kinda cloudy today_ , it is Sanji who can feel the storms.

“What I want doesn't even matter,” he retorts, clueless as to why his captain isn't understanding. “I should've said something - I shouldn't have let you - I should have -”

“You should have asked,” Zoro says, and Sanji’s voice catches even as he realises with one terrible pound of his heart that it is _Luffy_ who is being addressed - not _him_ , not who _should_ be resented, apologising, and blamed.

“But it wasn't getting us _anywhere_ ,” Luffy whines, chin wobbling with a guilty pout. “We've been thinking about this for _ages_.”

Zoro is firm, disapproving, and Luffy wilts at the sigh of his name.

“I'm sorry Sanji,” the captain warbles, digging a guilty circle into the dirt with his toes. The strap on one of his flip-flops is fraying, and that's how Sanji feels right about now. “I shouldn't have kissed you without asking first. But I really wanted to and I thought you did too.”

“But - but _Zoro_ -” Sanji splutters, swallowing down an _I do_. He can't deny that he wanted it, and he can't deny that he liked it, but neither of these facts change the fundamental truth standing before him - Luffy and Zoro, together, partners, _exclusive_.

“I ain't his keeper,” Zoro huffs, shrugging one shoulder as though _Sanji_ is the one spouting nonsense. Granted, Zoro is a lot of things, but Luffy’s keeper he is most certainly not.

Sanji throws his hands up, wincing sharply at the tug of his wounds. “You're dating!”

 _And?_ replies the quirk of Zoro’s eyebrow. “What's that change? He wants you too.”

“What,” is all Sanji can breathe, and even that rushes out with a garbled sound.

“Would you want that?” Luffy blurts, springing forward. At the last second, he seems to think better of capturing Sanji in a rubbery hug, instead restraining himself to bouncing around. Blood splatters in his shadow as he does, but if Chopper were here, it would be Sanji’s stricken expression that he would find most concerning. “‘Cause we've been talking ‘bout it and we like the idea of being a three - with you! ‘Course, you'd have to have us both ‘cause Zoro’s already mine -”

“Both of you?” Sanji croaks, helplessly following his captain’s puppyish expression as he hops around. “Like - together?”

“Simple maths, cook,” Zoro rumbles, but his tone is softer, that fondness he reserves for Luffy alone, and it soothes some of the wildfire panic that must be blanching Sanji’s gobsmacked face.

“We'd like that!” Luffy declares, throwing his arms up, and though Zoro’s addition is little more than a grunt, it's an _agreement_. “Would you?”

Sanji is _sure_ that he's swallowed his tongue, and yet his mouth seems to find a denial anyway. “I don't - want to get between -”

“ _Would you_?” Luffy repeats, and he'd never use his king’s haki to get what he wants, but Sanji hears himself admitting the truth all the same.

“ _Yes_ ,” he breathes, a tide surging in to seal the fate of the shore. “Gods - yes. But -”

“No buts!” Luffy says, a shrieking sound of delight as he presses a finger against his own lips to gesture a _shoosh_.

“But you two -”

“We _three_ ,” Luffy corrects, and Sanji’s mouth snaps shut, words finally failing him.

“Nice,” Zoro says with a grin - and that's all they speak of it until the crew are back together and the world is reeling from their reunion, their alliance, and their friends victorious and safe around them; until Chopper has fussed and fretted and prescribed them all with sleep; and until Sanji wakes with Luffy’s drool on his chin and _flings_ himself off of the sofa, landing in a heap of elbows and knees onto Zoro, snoozing soundly on the floor.

Zoro’s _FUCK!_ might be what rouses the rest of the boy’s quarters, but it's Luffy’s guilty titter and the morning-breath kiss he slaps into Sanji’s chin that has them tumbling from their hammocks.

Noises of astonishment call out around the room, but it is only Usopp who comments on the relationship development, rolling back into his blanket with a nonchalant, “Well that's a thing.” He is snoring before the first ring of Luffy’s laughter, and as though reassured by their captain’s cheerful mood, the boy’s quarters soon descends into a sleepy quiet once again.

“For _fuck’s sake_ ,” Zoro wheezes, still clutching his abdomen. “You're bonier than _Brook_.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, muttering, “I really don't think that's possible, moron,” but still takes care to detract himself from Zoro without jostling the squashed man too much.

“Actually,” Brook laments from the corner, singing his typical _yohohohoho_. “There is _one_ bone that I'm sure -”

Zoro lobs the balled-up blanket at him, yanking Luffy from the sofa in the process. Only Luffy’s rubbery limbs prevent him from also flattening the swordsman into the deck, but Zoro still finds the breath to squabble with the captain as Sanji climbs back onto the sofa and claims it for himself.

“You three needed a big new bed about _yesterday_ ,” Franky sighs through the morning gloom.

“But Sanji wasn't dating us yesterday,” Luffy replies, missing the point entirely.

“Could've used the bed though,” is all Zoro has to say.

Once it isn't _far too early for this shit_ and Sanji has managed to untangle himself from Luffy’s clingy, drool-plastered body to serve up a meal masquerading as breakfast, the entire crew and their present guests have learned of the news. Granted, _news_ makes it sound like some sort of pageantry, but living in the close-quarters of a ship has never lent itself to keeping secrets. Everyone was going to find out at _some_ point, so Sanji counts himself lucky that their earlier wake-up call had done the trick in spreading the word.

Really, with how close the three of them had been sleeping, it’s no surprise that polyamory is the crew’s conclusion. It was either that or _very poorly concealed_ infidelity, the thought of which has Sanji’s mouth twisting in distaste even as Luffy howls with laughter.

“That's such a funny word!” is his excuse as his nakama huff and face-palm around him. The breakfast table is bustling with chatter and surprise, but Luffy’s giggling innocence has everybody groaning as one.

“See? He doesn't even know the meaning of the word,” Zoro assures - and god forbid Sanji ever admit it, but he's glad that _someone_ is the voice of reason in this new and weird relationship, even if it's _Zoro_.

If the crew have any comments or doubts to express, then they fail to share any of these as breakfast draws to a close. Truthfully, it isn't the Heart Pirates’ or their guests’ business what occurs behind the closed doors of the Sunny, although it _is_ their nakama’s business, Sanji knows, because a polyamorous relationship between the so-called _Monster Trio_ is going to affect them all.

Franky promises to construct that bed. Chopper narrows his cute little eyes into something not _quite_ so cute, and makes a note to revisit their medical files while threatening them with condoms and books and _lectures_. Luffy merely half-listens to the warnings, still gobbling down the last of Zoro’s breakfast, but Sanji has to ditch the washing up and escape outside for a cigarette to hide the blush rising up and blotting freckles over the nervous pallor of his face.

He _had_ presumed that there was a sexual aspect to Luffy and Zoro’s relationship (having never actually fallen witness to any of their mishaps himself), but Luffy’s easy-go-lucky attitude towards the topic of _sex education_ has cemented it. He's not sure how to take this insight; excitement would be appropriate, perhaps, because the prospect of sex can only be a _good thing_ , but all he feels is anxiety at the thought of his inexperience - that he might be _inadequate._

Sanji frowns, rolling the cigarette between his fingers. Smoke trails up into the air and out to sea, and though Whole Cake island and Wano are long behind them now, Sanji feels his chest tighten as he notices the bruises still lingering on his wrists.

He had given Luffy’s hat back just this morning, but he feels its absence like a noose around his neck.

They need to talk about _this_ , he decides, but getting those two meatheads to sit down and talk about _anything_ isn't something Sanji imagines will be easy.

No - maybe they’ll surprise him. The last twenty-four hours have been a wild ride if nothing else; Wano and Kaido aside, _single to polyamory_ and the possibilities that Sanji has only fantasised about is a step - a leap, more like - that he never expected to take. The fact that Luffy and Zoro had both _wanted_ and _discussed_ the option is surprising in itself; for all his terrible hopes and thoughts, Sanji had never considered himself a desirable entity, but as he takes another drag of the cigarette and hears an uproar of laughter from inside the lounge, the truth is -

Something smashes in the kitchen. Sanji sighs a curse up at the sky and flicks the ashes away, hoping that Chopper won’t be present to witness him testing his stitches as he kicks Luffy’s head through a wall. He is, disapproving baby eyes and futile demands to stop and all, but Sanji merely pats the little doctor on the head before swinging a foot around and _cracking_ the captain’s rubbery brain over the countertop. Those at the table just manage to sweep their mugs away as Luffy bounces across the room, and there is a sigh of long-suffering forbearance from Law as his _Room_ whirls into existence to piece the shattered crockery back together.

“I think I like the Polar Tang more,” Bepo despairs, hugging his captain’s cursed blade further into his fur as though it alone can protect him from the Strawhat crew.

There is an explosion at Franky’s end of the table. Carrot almost snorts a sugar cube up her nose. Zoro grumbles as he peels Luffy’s face from a porthole and shakes the semi-flattered captain out like a rag. Nami’s head _thwunks_ against the table and Jinbe laughs and laughs and laughs.

The truth is that Sanji feels entirely unchanged - that nothing really has changed, not when being one part of _three_ isn’t the weirdest thing to happen to him, not on this ship, not with this motley, vagabond crew.

And yet.

And yet Luffy hugs him after breakfast, two elasticated arms winding twice-fold around Sanji’s waist. His captain has always been small, but Sanji has never realised quite _how small_ until a straw-hatted head pokes out from under his arm, revealing a guilty quirk of a smile on Luffy’s face. Sanji startles, used to Luffy’s brazen affection but not like _this_ , but one rubbery hand snatches out and catches the glass before, that too, can smash into the sink.

“Sorry for breaking a plate,” Luffy says, giving the cook a squeeze. Law has, of course, fixed said plate with his Devil Fruit, and while he hadn't complained about the proper uses of his powers, he might do if Luffy breaks something else. “I wanted to help clear up though Zoro said it was a bad idea.”

 _He was right_ , Sanji wants to reply, but he instead finding himself blurting, “Where is he?” as he glances around at the empty kitchen. Zoro rarely lingers in the kitchen, preferring instead to retreat to his own spaces, but with Luffy here and this new _thing_ between the three of them, Sanji isn't sure what to expect anymore.

“Training I guess,” Luffy says without concern, kind-of shrugging against Sanji’s back. “You want me to go fetch him?”

“Wha - no, no, it’s fine. I just…” He trails off, unsure as to where that thought was going, and sets the glass aside with an unnecessary _thunk_.

“He’s a bit weird about hugging,” Luffy provides, pressing his cheek into Sanji’s side. That's not particularly an excuse or an explanation, but Sanji doesn't know if he wants to - _needs_ to hear either, not when he's never really asked after Zoro before.

Luffy emits an odd noise, as though Sanji has said something he doesn't like. “He said we shouldn’t spook you.”

Sanji snorts a laugh before he can stop himself. “ _I_ -” he argues, offended at the _sheer gall_. “ - do not get _spooked_.”

This time, Luffy snickers, and the brim of his hat nudges Sanji’s armpit. “I think he’s shy,” he discloses, laughing as though he's spilling a secret - which he is, as far as Sanji is concerned. “ _He_ got all spooked back when we started doing stuff. Sometimes if I sit on him for too long he still gets all squirmy and huffy. Are you gonna do that?”

Given that Luffy is _still_ clinging to him, Sanji hazards a guess that _no_ , he is going to be quite all right with all the hugging, provided that he can have the freedom to move his arms every once in a while.

“Whoops, sorry,” Luffy says, laughter softening as he relinquishes his grasp. “Then I’m going to hug you a lot, ‘kay? I like hugging, but you should tell me if you don’t like it, yeah?”

Luffy doesn’t retreat as far as to actually _let Sanji go_ , but Sanji doesn’t complain as he returns to the dishes. Nobody else appears to be doing them, but given that the entirety of this crew are magnets for trouble, Luffy more so than most, perhaps this is for the best. “Well,” Sanji says, flicking a soap bubble at his captain’s - _partner’s_ \- nose. “What I don’t like is when _somebody_ tries to raid my kitchen after breakfast.”

Luffy has the audacity to whine. “ _No fair_ , that’s not what I meant.”

Sanji _uh-huhs_ , continuing on as though he hadn’t known this. He is under no illusion that Luffy won’t notice any grievances he may have, so letting him know if anything makes him uncomfortable is a moot point, really. “Or after lunch.”

“ _Sanji_.”

“And in the middle of the night.”

“ _Awww_ , but that’s the best time -”

Sanji swats him with one of the dirty spoons, splattering jam across the captain’s forehead. Immediately, Luffy sticks his tongue out to lick it off, and Sanji laughs at the absurdity of the idea until he remembers what Luffy’s body is made of, and then quite mercilessly shoves the captain away before he can bear witness to _exactly_ how far a rubber tongue can stretch.

With two ships and over thirty people to cater for, laugh with, and fall over across the bustling deck of the Sunny, the time to explore the new relationship is infrequent and sparse in the following week. Sanji doesn't mind, still reeling from his imprisonment and the calamity at Wano, quite content to busy himself with meals and snacks and waving away the Heart Pirates’ cook’s attempts at helping. Feeding Luffy is a feat unto itself, and Sanji has managed just fine with that over the years, so what's over twenty more people with notably saner appetites? Cooking, at least, distracts him from the ache of his wounds, and sweating all day at the oven provides an excuse for the burn of his cheeks with each of Luffy’s lopsided smiles and the weight of Zoro’s gaze.

Sanji feels unchanged (he feels the same want, the same need, the same anxious curl in his chest) - and yet changes unravel about him.

With Luffy, it's easy. He is a boundless ball of determination and will, and he has never felt the need to hide his affections. Pulling Sanji into hugs, into his space, into the time he once shared solely with Zoro comes naturally to Luffy, and Sanji lets himself be guided, included, and loved.

The changes are slower with Zoro. They still bicker and spar, hurl insults, and tease each other in jest, and they still rub each other the wrong way just as they rub each other the _right_ , defaulting more to peaceful quiet than razor-edged barter when they have a moment alone. They don’t particularly _touch_ , not really, not as Luffy hugs and holds and slaps kisses into whatever part of his others’ bodies that he happens to spy, but there is _something_ like that easy, physical intimacy in the way they exist just a fraction apart, allowing their eyes to linger for the time they couldn’t before.

It isn't until they return to Zou and part ways with their allies - the minks, the Heart Pirates, and somewhere distantly, a phoenix high up over the blue - that there is time to relax. Though they are a crew of ten now, with Jinbe, who found his place among them so long ago, the Sunny seems quiet as the Polar Tang submerges, the ancient elephant plodding away. There is time to breathe in the lull and allow their battle-weary bodies to rest, and nobody argues when Luffy insists in camping out on the main deck during their first night adrift, Jinbe something of a squishy, blue beanbag in the centre of the blanket-pile.

“Don't hesitate to push Luffy away if he gets too clingy,” Nami advises, sounding both amused and disapproving as the captain flattens himself over their newest nakama.

Jinbe just laughs long and low and seems quite appalled by the idea of refusing Luffy anything, and Sanji wonders if he, too, always has that wonderstruck expression about him. He finds himself catching Zoro’s eye through the dusk, although the swordsman just huffs a reply, neither confirming nor denying that they both do the same.

The red tips of his ears say a lot though.

Sanji falls asleep that night squashed between nakama from every angle, cosy to the point of stifling but not one to complain, with Usopp snoring at one side and Chopper tucked into the other. It's warm and safe where the open ocean is dark and cold, and as he drifts off to sleep his last thoughts are of Luffy, giggling in the pile, and of the way that Zoro’s face burned until his nose was as red as his ears.

 _Cute_ is not a word Sanji ever thought he would associate with Zoro. _Attractive_ , yes, and _handsome_ very much so, but _cute_ is sweet and sugar, big eyes, and wide smiles, whereas the largest smile that Zoro achieves is from the thrill of a fight, lips drawn back like an animal and snarling through pain, adrenaline, and blood.

Maybe Sanji should revaluate his definition.

Maybe Zoro is just as much an exception to the flowery, romantic idealisation of Sanji’s love life as Luffy is. That's _not_ to say that they don't do romance at all, or sometimes, or just very occasionally, when they feel like it perhaps - except that it _really kind of is_.

Sanji soon comes to realise that if he wants a more romantic flavour in this relationship, he's damn well going to have to do it himself.

His partners don't make it easy.

On a scale of _well-nigh impossible_ to _better off quelling the tide_ , romancing Luffy is somewhere in the middle. Hugging has already been established as means of expressing affection, and Sanji has only ever denied a kiss when the morning breath lingers like a stench. Piling his captain with food, as well, has long been Sanji’s way of showing his heart (in his hands, in the knives that chop and the pans that fry), so simply adding a flare to everything he serves tides Luffy over, makes him laugh and smile and glow with the knowledge that some meals are _his_ , just his, entirely catered for his gluttonous appetite and bottomless gut.

They don't really _talk_ about this new affection (old, really, from months and years and forever ago), but that doesn't mean that words are not said in the smiles they share, the hands they hold, the bickering, the teasing, and the many calls of _Luffy I swear to god,_ _get your mitts out of my fridge_!

Romancing Luffy evolves from _daunting_ to _easy_ , and romancing Zoro hits a wall pretty hard.

The blueprints for the bed that Franky promised to build is redrafted and redrawn until a plan for an entire new bedroom in the depths of the Sunny is developed, so the hammocks and sofa become a temporary grievance that they have to endure. One hammock is scarcely large enough for two people, and while Luffy and Zoro have made due all this time, and though Luffy even suggests that they _may as well try the hammock_ , Sanji shoots the idea down before Zoro has even clocked the captain’s head for good measure.

“I'll sleep in my own bed,” Sanji volunteers, deciding it best that the other two sleep as they had before; typically Zoro sprawled on his back with his limbs askew and Luffy plastered over the top of him.

“But that's not fair,” Luffy argues, pouting as though he has not already clambered into Zoro’s hammock as usual. “I wanna sleep with you too.”

Flattered though he is by Luffy’s disappointment, Sanji stands firm, only to be interrupted by a huff from Zoro.

“He drools,” the first mate grumbles, fixing Sanji with an oddly earnest stare. “And he wiggles _all of the time_.”

Luffy’s eyes boggle as though this is news to him. “Don't you like sleeping with me?” he whines, huffing with affront as the first mate only rolls his eyes.

“He’s a menace,” Zoro explains, still speaking solely to Sanji. “Take ‘im. I don't mind.”

That's almost a _please_.

They compromise by sleeping in their own hammocks with Luffy slumping into the space of whoever has left enough room. Granted, this is usually _neither_ of them, but Zoro, at least, is used to being flattered into his bed, whereas Sanji passes the first week by either accidentally kicking Luffy out or falling out himself, much to the amusement of the rest of the room.

Not once does Sanji ask to sleep in Zoro’s bed, and not once does Zoro do the same. Sometimes Sanji _thinks_ about it, on the rare occasion that Luffy is on watch and when Zoro has managed to sleep before dawn. The swordsman has never slept deeply, not even surrounded by the Sunny and crew, and Sanji tells himself it's a reluctance to disturb those few hours of rest that keeps him from asking if he would be welcome.

Not matter what Luffy insists, Zoro is not an easy man to read.

(That wall that Sanji’s romancing has hit? It's Zoro).

In some ways, cooking for Zoro is simpler. Unlike Luffy, the swordsman never demands or even _requests_ food at unreasonable - or reasonable - times, instead dedicating himself to the pursuit of alcohol. Thrusting a bottle under his nose and leaving him to enjoy it has long been the extent of Sanji’s involvement in this, although where Zoro used to grunt his gratitude and amble off to the crow's nest, in the weeks leading up to the disaster at Dressrosa, he had taken to lingering in the kitchen instead. At first, Sanji hadn't been sure how to take this, eyeing the swordsman suspiciously as the first of many bottle-caps were popped off, but once it became apparent that Zoro wasn't after anything else, Sanji had grudgingly allowed the uncharacteristic behaviour to continue.

Sometimes they spoke, conversing briefly about the islands they passed, the antics of the crew, or even the mundane - the weather or the boredom of their days. Yet, most of the time Zoro drank and Sanji cooked, and the lull of the afternoon fell silent between them, and that was fine with them.

( _Grudgingly_ became _happily_ , but Sanji never told Zoro that).

In _other_ ways, cooking for Zoro is the one of the most maddening endeavours of Sanji’s life. No matter how long he works or the amount he serves, and no matter how intricate the design or superb the flavours, Zoro never shows appreciation for _any_ of the food beyond a simple _thanks_ and then proceeding to stuff his face with it.

He _likes_ the food, of that Sanji has no doubt, but he never seems to value the _thought behind it_ \- the care, the consideration, the god _damn affection that Sanji is trying to convey._

A _thanks_ is all he ever gets.

_A thanks._

(Sanji would tell him to go and shove that thanks up his fucking arse, except that would actually solve the problem, wouldn't it?)

“Sanji-san, if I may be so bold ask as to a personal question,” comes a lyrical beckon from Brook one sweltering afternoon, their departure from a summer island still burning with brilliant solar rays down onto the ship. The mischievous trio and Franky are pitching volleyballs across the grassy lower deck, Usopp and Chopper bellowing complaints every time Luffy’s rubbery arms stretch and flail to his advantage. Baking in the shade nearby, Jinbe is supposedly keeping the peace between them but is truly just laughing at their antics, and high up in the crow’s nest out of reach of the madness is Zoro, who Sanji curses as he flourishes a tray of drinks to the ladies.

(Stupid idiot hadn’t even stopped training before swiping the drink).

“Spit it out,” Sanji says, passing the skeleton his own, notably less flowery version of the smoothies. Brook thanks him anyway and lays his violin aside, and now enjoying their drinks beneath the gigantic sun-umbrella, Nami and Robin not-so-subtly tune into the conversation.

“You seem agitated, my dear friend,” Brook remarks, looking as apologetic as a skull can achieve. “And I cannot help but notice that Zoro-san seems to be the source of your frustrations.”

The skeleton takes a sip of his drink, teeth and bone pressed around the straw. “That’s not a question,” Sanji notes, but he finds himself tucking the tray under one arm anyway, hesitating at the table-side as though he really _wants_ to hear Brook’s analysis of his love-life.

Brook concedes. “Are you well? Forgive my presumptions if I am entirely off of the mark.”

“Has _everyone_ noticed?” Sanji asks instead of answering, dropping his voice as though the idiots (and Jinbe) down on the main deck will hear anything over their childish squabbling. Before, he would have simply brushed the concerns away, but after the fiasco with Big Mom and the Vinsmokes, he has felt more willing to allow his nakama - and Brook especially, privy to the ways of the Vinsmokes as the rest of the crew are not - to pry.

Still. Robin is beauty and divine and he would never dare argue with her, but even through the dark tint of her sunglasses, Sanji can feel her chilling intuition watching his every microexpression and sigh.

“You mean the fact that you two have been either glaring at or bumbling around each other?” Nami probes, finishing with a pointed slurp of her drink. “I think even _Jinbe’s_ noticed, but he’s far too polite to say anything.”

 _Just great_ , Sanji despairs, shoving a hand through his fringe. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with, Nami-san. Me and the moss-head have just gotten off on the wrong foot, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” Robin muses, just as Nami snorts, “Or not _gotten off_ at all.”

Sanji blushes so fiercely that his sunburns pale in comparison. He attempts to babble through an explanation, clutching the silver tray like a lifeline to his chest, but if his nakamas’ silence is anything to go on, they’re not convinced by his assurances.

“Things have just…” he eventually hears himself admitting, shifting a fraction to duck his head into the shade. “Sort of happened, so far. I don't think kicking him into the deck is going to help.”

Although it would make him feel better.

Brook hums, the musical tune calling him out on the lie. “Have you considered _discussing_ your reservations with either Zoro-san or our captain?”

Sanji sighs, unable to answer _yes_ without feeling as if it’s another lie. “Talking to Zoro is like talking to a brick wall,” he grumbles, immediately wondering if it was the wrong thing to say as Robin’s eyebrows shoot up, the next slurp of Nami’s drink deafening in the silence.

“Perhaps you are failing to give our first mate enough credit,” the archaeologist says, and though her voice is soft, that’s a reprimand if Sanji ever heard one. “He has, after all, been involved with our captain for some time now.”

Sanji flusters with that undisputable truth, feel a swell of guilt inside of his chest. She’s right, as ever. Zoro’s not the only one to blame for the lack of communication - relationships are built by two (or three, as the case may be), and since Zoro and Luffy’s relationship has remained strong all of this time, then maybe it’s _Sanji_ who’s doing something wrong.

“I know,” he says, wanting to ease his nakamas’ concerns. “I'm just - frustrated, I guess. This isn't what I was expecting.”

Robin smiles and Brook tinkers a laugh, but it’s Nami who urges, “So what _were_ you expecting?”

Sanji decides not to reveal his true thoughts about that, but they probably know him well enough to guess.

 

 

 

Lemon sorbet is apparently the answer to all of Sanji’s woes - or Luffy’s, at least, and Usopp’s and Chopper’s once they realise that their cook has been swayed into breaking open the tub he has stored at the bottom of the freezer. Denying Luffy food challenges almost every one of Sanji’s morals, so it’s with only the pretence of aggravation that he announces that sorbet and ice cream will be dished out to the crew, a declaration that rewards him with far more than three cheers in reply.

Zoro, of course, doesn’t express his enthusiasm quite so childishly, but he does wander into the kitchen once everybody else has collected their bowls. He grunts a grand total of two words - _that mine?_ \- as he points at the dish, and regardless of whether Zoro is honestly oblivious or just unthinkably _obtuse_ , his indifference has the fine threads of Sanji’s patience snapping at the ends.

The tea-towel _thuwhips!_ as Sanji slams it down. Like a thunderclap it slaps against the counter and Zoro almost drops the bowl, but Sanji honestly couldn’t care less about _one stupid bowl of ice cream_ as he shoves himself into the swordsman’s poorly concealed alarm.

“Why are we dating?” he barks, too frustrated to appreciate how Zoro has frozen into the world’s most awkward rendition of a life-sized marble sculpture. _Spooked_ is definitely the appropriate adjective, and Luffy would no doubt be beside himself were he here to bear witness to Zoro’s aborted glance towards the door.

“Err,” the first mate manages to say, unsticking his cemented jaw. “Because you said _yes_?”

 _Sweet_ , Sanji thinks, but not what he meant. “No - _why_ are we dating? How did you think this was going to work? Do you not _like_ being romanced? Am I doing something wrong? _Tell me what you want_.”

Zoro just blinks, watching the twists of Sanji’s expressions as though he doesn't understand. “Can I have a spoon?”

Sanji emits a strangled noise and throws his hands up in the air.

Catching himself well over a minute too late, Zoro still tries to rectify that stupendous blunder.  “I mean - I dunno, I guess with Luffy it was just -”

“ _I am not Luffy_.”

“I _know that_ ,” he growls, silencing the continuation of Sanji’s tirade. “I don't _want_ you to be like Luffy. I want you to be like -” He waves the bowl in Sanji’s general direction, and finishes with an unhelpful, “You know.”

“No, I _don't_. And whatever I'm doing is clearly not meeting your expectations because -”

Zoro, the buffoon, seems surprised. “I never said -”

“No, you didn’t, because you haven't said _anything_ -!”

“Well neither have _you_. You expecting me to be able to _decode_ all those drinks and snacks and things, is that it? You've always fussed over the girls like that - how am I supposed to guess that they _mean something_? Why have you gotta be so goddamn _subtle_ all of the -”

“ _Subtle?_ ” Sanji cries, torn between laughing and strangling the idiot. “We're _dating_ you farm-brained, soggy-headed piece of _moss in a pond_. Luffy literally kisses me like some hyperactive puppy - that's not _subtle_.”

“ _I_ don't do that.”

That is _literally the entire point_ , but Sanji scrubs a hand over his face, realising that Zoro’s mossy head has infected his _dumbass brain_. “Well maybe you _should_ cause that's a right side better than doing _nothing_ like you have been -”

“You _want_ me to kiss you?”

 _Have mercy_ , Sanji breathes. “What the _fuck_ did I just say -”

The bowl clatters onto the table. Zoro sweeps forward, hands snatching Sanji’s forearms to hold him in place, and Sanji would have yelped at the movement had the full weight of Zoro’s gaze not twisted his tongue into knots.

“Do you,” Zoro rumbles, voice thick and slow. “Want me to kiss you?”

Sanji shoves himself out of the hold, overwhelmed by Zoro’s sudden presence, but quickly grins and pokes a finger into Zoro’s chest before the twit can get the wrong idea.

“How - many - times,” he says, jabbing the swordsman with every word. Zoro twitches under the touch, but there isn't even a twinge of resistance in his expression. “Do I have to say _yes_?”

Zoro hums, a smirk sliding easy onto his face. He catches Sanji’s hand and brings it up between them, and though his single eye is watching Sanji’s own, he almost seems to inspect the hand he has captured, seems to consider giving _that_ a kiss instead.

“Hell no,” Sanji snaps, levelling his partner with a glare. He doesn't go as far as to actually remove his hand, and this appears to amuse Zoro even as Sanji demands, “Kiss me properly.”

“Flirt properly,” Zoro fires back, notably _not_ encouraging any kissing.

Sanji rolls his eyes. “How about you _read_ the goddamn signals properly?”

“Oh, I'm sorry, I don't speak lovey-dovey pervert.”

“I am _not_ a pervert.”

“Could've fooled me.”

“A _rock_ could fool you.”

Zoro laughs loud and bold and Sanji laughs too, pleased that they have settled into this effortless banter once again. He's _missed_ this; treading on knives around Zoro has been miserable, and despite Luffy’s reassurances that everything will work out, Sanji _had_ been worrying about this unpromising start.

“We've been stupid, haven't we?” Zoro grumbles, apparently sharing similar thoughts.

“Uh, _you_ have,” Sanji cannot help but reply, to which Zoro huffs and rolls his functional eye.

“Cook.”

“All right, fine. We've been dumb. This is dumb. The fact that we're _still not kissing_ is also dumb.”

The _signal_ honestly could not get any clearer if Sanji could say so himself, and Zoro laughs again before leaning in and _finally_ getting a clue.

It's - messy, and weirdly wet in a way that Sanji should have expected, but it's as warm as it is clumsy, Zoro’s choppy hair tickling his forehead and even his _ears_ , and Sanji hums as he clutches the swordsman closer, his other hand still held in a gentle, forgotten grasp.

Kissing Zoro is _nothing_ like chasing kisses from women, but Sanji likes it - he likes it a _lot_.

In fact, he likes it so much that he doesn't notice the door cracking open until Luffy’s elongated head stretches its way inside, the captain’s triumphant holler flinging the two men a good foot into the air.

“Oh,” Luffy says, startled laughter echoing around the gallery. “ _Oh_! Robin said you were arguing but I guess she was wrong!”

“Fuck’s sake,” Zoro grumbles, ire contradicted by the furious blush spreading up from his neck. A couple of feet stretches between him and Sanji now, but as the door shuts again to permit only Luffy inside, they gravitate back together like the moon and its eternal pull on the tide.

“Sorry,” Luffy laughs, practically singing the syllables. “I'll knock next time?”

“Don't be stupid, why would you knock?” Zoro scoffs, shooting Luffy a familiar glare as the rubberman bounds over, grin widening impossibly at his flustered first mate and cook. “And we _were_ arguing, all right?”

Sanji smiles, fingertip trailing under Zoro’s chin. Zoro’s embarrassment is rising exponentially, his sidelong glances at Luffy’s casual regard of the intimate moment he has interrupted only serving to deepen his blush. Sanji is sure that he, too, has not escaped this awkward - and yet entirely welcome - predicament without reddening, but at least he had already brightened from baking too long in the sun.

“Well, not right now we're not,” he whispers, leaning in for another kiss. “But maybe in a minute.”

“Eh,” Zoro amends, bowing forward to meet him. “Maybe two.”

Sanji laughs - and Luffy laughs too, right before swooping over and squeezing them both into a hug. Squawks of protest meet the captain’s whooping delight, but they fall on deaf ears as Luffy jabbers on about food and hugs and remarking how _you two are so funny!_ as their heads and elbows bash together. Zoro eventually succeeds in detangling himself - used to fleeing the rubbery hold, no doubt - but if Luffy is upset by the quick escape, he just sticks out of his tongue and winds himself an extra time around Sanji for good measure.

“Thanks a lot, asshole,” Sanji grumbles, no real heat behind his words as he glowers at Zoro. He remembers Luffy’s confession that Zoro is often “weird” about physical contact, and while seeing the swordsman so blatantly out of his depth _is_ a remarkable sight, Sanji figures that it’s best not to press.

(Still. He cannot help but wonder if Luffy also appreciates Zoro looking so dishevelled).

(He cannot help but wonder if Luffy also appreciates the thought of Zoro on his knees).

Sanji is rewarded with a smirk from the moss-headed idiot. “Thought you liked the hugs, eh?” he drawls, and Sanji blinks for a moment - the only way he would know that is if Luffy had reiterated their conversation back before they returned to Zou.

Well. If _that’s_ the case. “Thought you didn’t want me to get ‘spooked’, huh?” he shoots back, revelling in the flash of realisation that breaks through Zoro’s smug expression.

“I did _not_ say ‘spooked’,” he denies, crossing his arms and, for all intents and purposes, looking like a cat with its hackles rising. The indignant ruffling of bird-feathers may be Sanji’s imagination, too, but Zoro is definitely scowling enough to warrant the sound effect.

“No? What _did_ you say then?”

When Zoro fails to respond beyond clamping his jaw together, Luffy is swift to oblige with a merry titter, “He said he didn’t want -”

“ _Luffy_.”

Luffy _humphs_ , only silenced by Zoro’s call for a moment. “We shouldn’t be keeping secrets from each other!” he warbles, looking torn between apologetic and peeved. For a second, the captain and first mate stare it down, as stubborn as each other with the tempers to match, but eventually Zoro’s anger wavers at the sight of Luffy’s wobbling pout. He huffs, crossing his arms tighter across his chest, but he doesn’t contest against the vote for honesty - not that Sanji ever expected he would.

“I don’t like arguing - and I don’t like watching you two argue,” Luffy explains, pressing his cheek into Sanji’s suit. “It’s not fun.”

Sanji and Zoro exchange a humbled look. Those three words would be met with laughter were they uttered by anybody else, but Luffy has never needed to raise his voice to sway even the celestials - the will of the sea, the moon, the sun.

“If we’re having this conversation,” Sanji announces, because it’s probably about time that they _are_. “Then I’m going to make tea.”

“Booze,” is Zoro’s immediate response; “Chocolate milk!” is Luffy’s.

Sanji would box their ears were he not so helplessly _in_ _love_ with these twits. “No and _no_. Your choices are tea or coffee, and that’s it.”

Zoro grunts his acquiescence, but Luffy is far more vocal about it. With a holler of, _ooooh, coffee!_ he springs over to the kitchen counter like a bloodhound, his nose honing in on the coffee machine. Sanji has to scoop him around the waist and haul him forcibly over to the table to prevent that catastrophe from occurring.

“No way in hell, Luffy,” he says, shoving the captain into a seat. “Sit. God forbid I let you have a caffeine rush.”

They settle on tea, allowing the whistle of the kettle to silence them. Sanji makes quick work of serving the drinks to everyone’s tastes - milky and sweet for Luffy, and a god-awful jet black for Zoro - but both of his nakama regard him uncharacteristically as he sets the mugs down.

“What?”

“You not going to add any of those stupid umbrellas or anything, cook?” Zoro asks, making a hand motion above his drink that Sanji can only _fathom_ the meaning of.

“Not to tea you _heathen_. What -”

“Hey, Sanji, d’you know anything about _Yubashiri_?” Luffy interrupts, and since that thought is even more bizarre than Zoro’s, it has Sanji almost missing his chair as he sits down.

“Err. The... sword?”

Luffy and Zoro look to each other, and Sanji takes that as a _no_.

“I haven’t said anything,” Zoro states over the rim of the mug, eyebrows rising sharp. “I take it you’ve not either?”

“Nah, I didn't,” Luffy says with a laugh. “I knew you guys were still dancing around all awkward.”

“Oi, oi…”

“What's a sword got to do with anything?” Sanji prompts, urging the conversation to swiftly move past that reminder.

“Not the sword,” Luffy corrects, still beaming that brilliant smile. “The word! Sometimes we make each other unhappy even if we don't mean to, but saying the word puts things right.”

“Yeah, you heard right,” Zoro clarifies, taking pity on Sanji’s bemused expression because _surely Luffy cannot mean -_ “It’s a safeword. Chopper suggested it.”

“A safeword.”

“Uh-huh!” Luffy chimes, unabashed or oblivious to Sanji’s spluttering disbelief. “He gave us a really awkward talk about sex even though I'm ace and you're -” He waves his hand, motioning to Zoro in his entirety, and ends with, “Zoro.”

The swordsman rolls his eyes, apparently understanding whatever the hell Luffy’s gesture is supposed to mean. “Which is just as well,” he says, and Luffy agrees.

“Yeah, just as well! I like having sex with Zoro ‘cause he likes having sex. But sometimes it weirds me out a bit so I just say _Yubashiri_ and it's cool. Zoro says it after we fight with the marines sometimes, too.”

“Marines?” Sanji asks, feeling the need to input something. (There's certainly no need to worry about his partners surprising or not-surprising him anymore, that's for sure).

Luffy glances at the first mate, seeking permission. “Sometimes after a fight Zoro doesn't like to be touched for a while. So if he uses the word, I can't hug him and stuff ‘till he says so. It's a really good idea! Chopper’s super smart.”

Chopper probably doesn't have any idea what safewords are _known for_ , but Sanji can't argue if Luffy and Zoro are comfortable with how they've adapted the concept. It's not a bad idea by any means - consent and communication are _never_ bad ideas - but he never imagined that Chopper would suggest such a thing, or that Luffy and Zoro and their thick-headed stubbornness would ever reach the decision to put one into practice. Especially one that influenced behaviour outside of sexual intercourse.

Chopper might have tentatively broached the subject, but he never would have insisted.

(Maybe Luffy had. Maybe _Zoro_ had).

“So it's _Yubashiri_?”

Luffy nods, hat wobbling. “Yep! You should use it too, if you need to. You gotta stop whatever you're doing if one of us says it though. Especially with sex!”

“All right,” Sanji says, just so that Luffy knows he understands. He doesn't think Luffy has clued into the _stereotypical_ uses of a safeword (Zoro though - that's debatable), so Sanji isn't going to mention that he's familiar with the concept. Not intimately, unfortunately, but that doesn't mean he hasn't ever done any research to appease his curiosity.

(And thoughts. Quite a few of those).

He promises to remember the word, hoping to never make use of it.

Luffy smiles lopsidedly like the cat that got the cream, and in the next chair, Zoro huffs a despairing sound as Luffy charges straight on. “You _would_ like sex, right?”

“Err,” Sanji says, drowning an instantaneous _yes!_ into his tea. “If that's… not a problem.”

“Why would that be a problem?” Luffy asks, and there's a dozen things Sanji could say to that, starting with _hey have you seen me_ and ending with _why would you tap that?_ Unheeding, Luffy looks to Zoro with an expression contorted in thought, and for all that the duo are usually in sync, Zoro grunts a befuddled sound at the intensity of the gaze, completely thrown.

He doesn't quite bark his typical _what?_ but that's only because Luffy jumps in first, humming as he glances between them both.

“Is that what you were arguing about?”

“What - no!” they both rush to deny, spluttering into their drinks.

“Ah, that's good!” Luffy laughs his signature laugh, pleased to hear them in agreement. “Wait - what _were_ you arguing about? What is the sorbet? It was good! Is Zoro getting more? Can I have more?”

“Oh _fuck_ , the sorbet,” Zoro curses, diving for the mostly melted bowl. What is left of the dessert is little more than a sorry, neon puddle, but Luffy doesn't look discouraged as he leans over to inspect it.

“I'll have it!” he declares, batting hopeful eyes up at his scowling first mate. His hands clutch the bowl before Zoro can argue, trying to pry it from the swordsman’s grip, and so in one swooping motion, Zoro has lifted both the bowl and the captain straight into the air. Luffy squirms, wrapping his legs around Zoro’s waist for leverage, and in the next second, they’re roughhousing about on the floor for possession over the sorbet.

Or - Luffy is anyway. Zoro is trying to squash Luffy into the deck.

 _Pair of idiots_ , Sanji despairs, and when they roll towards his feet, he swipes the bowl straight out of Zoro’s hands.

Neither of them seems to notice.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far! Please leave a comment as you go~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, the Whole Cake island spoilers aren't really "vague" any more :P

 

Luffy sleeps atop Sanji that night, and for the first time, neither of them wind up on the floor. This does mean that Sanji awakens to a pool of Luffy’s drool seeping into his shirt, but he doesn’t have the heart to kick Luffy away, no matter how wide Zoro’s smirk is when the top is thrown straight into the laundry.

Breakfast is as rowdy as ever, with Usopp testing out his creations and Luffy inhaling everything in sight, and with Nami squawking at everybody to _lower the volume_ as Franky cheers and Robin laughs and Chopper squeals over them all. The uproar only increases as Brook ducks into the gallery with the mail tucked under an arm, but the novelty of the newspaper and _hand-written letters_ does quell the disarray into curious _oohs_ and _ahhs_.

“It’s official, Jinbe, you’re stuck with us now,” Nami says, holding up the paper and the new bounties for all to see. They have risen extortionately, to no one’s surprise, and now Jinbe’s brands him as a Strawhat Pirate, much to the crew’s delight. “Yours has gone back to ‘dead or alive’ now, Sanji-san,” she adds, and Sanji has never been so grateful for the price on his head.

“Guess they don’t want you alive anymore,” Usopp muses – unthinkingly, _unknowingly_ , with a frown etched deep into his face, and Sanji snorts as he waves for Nami to put the poster away.

“Not like they wanted me anyway,” is all he can bear to say.

“Who’s the letters from, Brook?” Zoro asks, pushing the conversation on before anyone’s thoughts can linger on Whole Cake island and Wano.

“Oh, one’s for the crew at large,” Brook says, letting Luffy snatch the letter away. _It’s from Sabo!_ the captain cries, and at once there is a pandemonium of astonishment that is only increased as Brook holds the second letter out to Sanji. “But the other is for our dear cook.”

He passes it over with gentle hands of bone; _Mr. Cook_ , it reads in cursive on the envelope, and Sanji’s breath hitches as he recognises the hand.

 _My grand adventure offered me the opportunity to enjoy a familiar meal far from the comforts of home_. _The red snapper was wonderfully well done, although the sauce did have a kick! My father will have to hear all about it once the ship is going merry across safer seas. He does worry, my father, but it will be years yet before his legs begin to creak!_

There isn’t a name at the bottom, but a large ‘X’ signs the page.

“That’s not from Sabo too, is it?” Luffy asks, rocking back on his heels. Nami seems to have procured Sabo’s letter from him and is now hunched over it with Robin at her side, but though the captain is no doubt curious as to the contents of Sanji’s letter, he doesn’t stretch over and pry.

“No, it’s from Vivi,” Sanji explains, prompting another round of bewildered cries; _Vivi?_ the crew shout, craning their necks in flabbergast. Sanji nods, folding the letter from sight, and Luffy’s eyes have softened, crow’s feet crinkling at the edges, before he has even said, “She… she’s been at the Baratie.”

“The Baratie?” Usopp squeaks. “Everything's all right, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sanji replies, smiling to reassure his nakama as he pockets the letter. It sits heavy in his jacket despite the concise message, and he knows he won't be able to remove it from his mind. “Nami-san, if it’s not too much to ask -”

“A secure connection to the Baratie?” she guesses, waving Sabo’s letter dismissively. Luffy’s eye track it frantically and Franky has to plop it out of Nami’s hand before the rubberman does something silly like pounce for it. “No problem. Give me an hour or so.”

What drags on by is the most gruelling hour of Sanji’s life, and he suffers through it smoking half a packet of cigarettes on the upper deck. Usopp pops his head around the corner just briefly, stuttering through an explanation that they’ve done the washing up for him, but nobody else dares disturb him until Nami plonks a den den mushi onto the banister.

She lists off the connection frequency, shoving the mouthpiece at him. “If you want privacy, I’m volunteering my room just this once, okay?”

Sanji flusters, flattered by her thoughtfulness even as the snail yawns in disinterested, and yet still hears himself turning the offer down. “It’s no problem, Nami-san,” he sing-songs. “I was thinking of using the crow’s nest.”

If she’s at all surprised by this, she conveys nothing, just raising an eyebrow. “Zoro’s training up here,” she says, neither questioning him or advising him against it, and Sanji feels his face heating up as her other eyebrow rises to join the first.

“Don't worry about me, Nami-san,” he replies, the words coming naturally from years from practice. “I’ll kick him out.”

Only – Nami says, _I do worry about you_ , and Sanji doesn't kick Zoro out.

That says it all, really.

Zoro doesn't say anything about Sanji curling up into one of the windowsills with the den den mushi, continuing to clunk around with the dumbbells as though he has miraculously turned blind and deaf as well as mute, for which Sanji is glad. Sanji has absolutely no qualms against kicking the swordsman down the ladder for some peace and quiet, but that would require expending energy that he doesn't feel he has right now, not with Vivi’s letter like a deadweight in his pocket.

Plus, Luffy had said _no secrets_ , and since Zoro hadn't even _been_ on Whole Cake to witness that colossal fuck up, Sanji supposes he's going to have to learn about the Vinsmokes’ shit at some point.

“ _This is the Baratie_ ,” comes Zeff’s monotonous drawl through the glowering sigh of the snail, the poor thing’s face contorting in a bizarre attempt at reproducing his moustache. “ _What sort of fuck-awful time d’you think it is to be calling a restaurant, shit-head?_ ”

 _Well_ , Sanji wants to say. _You've only grown more vulgar since you kicked me out_.

Instead, what he ends up saying is, “It's me, old man,” and if the breath he releases is somewhat soft and relieved, then Zoro dropping his dumbbell is the only one to know.

Sanji is regretting this already.

“You,” he hisses, covering the den den mushi to shoot the swordsman a glare. “Are supposed to be _deaf_.”

“Deaf and mute,” Zoro agrees.

“ _Don't mind me,_ ” Zeff deadpans, a chair scraping across the Baratie’s deck in the background. His wooden leg _clop-thunks_ as he sits down, and Sanji spares a guilty thought for not considering the East Blue hour before jumping the gun and calling.

Of course, Zeff opening his mouth and speaking on rids Sanji of that passing thought. “ _You got something to say, shitty brat, or did you call me just so I could listen in to you two having a spat?_ ”

Sanji’s teeth grind together. “Shut up, you geezer. I got a letter from Vivi.”

“ _Cute_ ,” is all the chef has to say to that, dismissing this statement as though he has no idea who Vivi even is. “ _And?_ ”

The den den mushi yawns. Sanji resists the urge to chuck it at Zoro’s head. “She said she visited the Baratie.”

“ _Right_.”

Sanji holds back a growl, feeling as dumb as _fuck_. “You're not making this any easier, arsehole.”

Zeff huffs. “ _Making what any easier, brat? S’not my fault if the den den mushi down here wakes me up at the crack of dawn, is it? And now you can't even fit together a proper sentence –_ ”

“Were you sleeping on the sofa or something?” Sanji cuts in, which is both a proper sentence _and_ more respectable than those one-word answers from the stupid old man. “Can't you even make it up the stairs anymore in your old age?”

There is a very telling pause. Something clunks on Zeff’s end of the line – his leg against the table, maybe, or his head into his hands. Sanji stares at the den den mushi, hoping it will offer some insight into whatever expression Zeff has on his face.

It doesn't.

“Were you –” He croaks, only able to think of one reason why Zeff would choose the sofa over his own bed. “ – waiting for me to call?”

“ _Don't get ahead of yourself, eggplant,_ ” Zeff grumbles, which is an undeniable _yes_ in the language of shitty old geezers with hats as big as their egos.

“I –” Sanji doesn't know what to say, but judging by the silence on the other end of the line, neither does Zeff. “You could've called _us_.”

“ _Don't be ridiculous, you could've been galloping off chasing skirts or overthrowing governments or whatever it is you crazy lot do to pass the time._ ”

 _You could've been anywhere,_ is what Sanji knows he's trying his hardest not to say. _You could've been dead._

Behind him, Zoro heaves the weights over his head. The crow’s nest creaks as the Sunny sails on, and Sanji watches the waves rush past the hull below.

“You not been reading the newspapers?”

The den den mushi breathes out a long-suffering sigh. “ _What am I - illiterate? Hear you've been causing trouble with the yonko. I have to say, that bounty poster of your dumb face ain't as life-like as the ones before it. The marines should sack whoever took that stupid photo._ ”

If that _stupid photo_ hadn't been taken, then maybe Sanji would have escaped the Vinsmokes unnoticed. (Maybe he wouldn't have almost lost his hands. Maybe Robin would have never read the Road Poneglyph. Maybe Luffy wouldn't be one step closer to achieving his dream).

Zeff laughs, and Sanji can imagine him looking at the poster now. “ _I've got it on the wall next to your new one – that arrived today. Back to being wanted dead now, eh brat?_ ”

“Lemme think for a second if being worth something to the marines dead is better than worth something to the Vinsmokes _only alive_ ,” Sanji drawls, sarcasm like a sea thick enough to swallow the sun.

“ _You're a brat either way, so what's it matter_?”

Banter is familiar between them, but Sanji winces, not wanting to admit that those words sting a little. He and Zeff have never been openly affectionate with each other; maybe it had been different when Sanji was younger, when he smaller, hurting, and scared, but hugs and smiles and _how was your days_ were never commonplace between them. Sanji doesn't mind – he's never minded – because Zeff’s rough care was never anything like living in the Vinsmoke household.

(In fear. Like a waste of space).

“Well,” Sanji says, trying to laugh it off – and probably failing, judging by how his voice wavers. “It's nice to know that _someone_ gives a shit if I die, even if it's the marines.”

“ _Grovelling ain't gonna earn you any brownie points, dipshit_.”

Sanji’s mouth opens – and then shuts again.

There's an _uh-oh_ from the bench in the corner.

“Grovelling?” he spits at the den den mushi, the snail wincing at the volume. “ _Grovelling_? Excuse me for feeling a bit of _relief_ at putting that hell-hole and those disgusting scumbags behind me. It's not like I _asked_ for them to consider me a worthless piece of trash or come stalking after me when they _finally_ found a good use for –”

“ _Oi, shut up for a goddamn second and tell me if this line is secure_.”

“Yes it's goddamn –”

“ _Good. Then unblock your ears and listen up, brat, ‘cause I'm only saying this once._ _You were the most troublesome, whiny, sour-faced, little rascal that I ever let into my restaurant –_ ”

Sanji’s cry of _our restaurant!_ is muffled by Zeff’s voice booming down the receiver.

“ – _AND you were such an utter little shit and sometimes I wondered why I kept you around, but I don't give a rat’s arse what hole you crawled out of or what flowery title you have tacked onto your name ‘cause you're my stupid, bratty, twig of an eggplant and I –_ ”

The den den mushi falls silent, beady eyes blinking less like Zeff and more like it's currently regretting it's life choices.

Sanji gives it a nudge because he doesn't know what else to do. “And you…?”

Zeff coughs, almost fighting with his reply. “ _And I guess it wouldn't kill me to give a shit if you died_.”

Sanji is _very_ glad that Zeff can't see him right now.

“Did you… know?” he finds the words to ask, dragging them up from inside the churning, warm, weirdly _happy-sad-MORTALLY-EMBARRASSED_ mix of emotions inside of his gut.

“ _What? Did I know that you were from a royal family of dirtbags that deserved to be trodden into the ground?_ ”

“Yeah,” Sanji says weakly, swallowing hard at the ferocious _anger_ in Zeff’s tone. “That.”

“ _Hmm. Not the ‘royal’ part, I suppose. You were the most unroyal kid I'd ever seen, running around the kitchen like a twit._ ”

Sanji splutters around a denial, cheeks heating. Zeff rumbles a laugh, recalling the memory, and Sanji curses his pathetic nine year old self as a memory of his own surges up.

“He used to get angry whenever I made food for the mice,” he admits, before he can think any better of it. He doesn't need to clarify who the _he_ is, but if Zeff read the papers as he said he had, then he probably saw the picture of Vinsmoke Judge after Luffy beat him into the ground.

“ _Angry, huh?_ ” Zeff quotes, tone leaving nothing to the imagination on exactly _how_ he feels about that. “ _You tried to feed that bloody pelican once and I went spare._ ”

“Yeah, well.” Sanji forces a laugh, realising how solemn the conversation has become. “You didn't lock me in the cellar for three days, so.”

Belatedly, Sanji realises that he can't hear Zoro clanking with his weights anymore, but Zeff replies before Sanji can turn around and level Zoro with whatever god-awful expression he must be wearing.

“ _And need another sous-chef? Please. I couldn't stand your snivelling._ ”

“Yeah?”

“ _Yeah_.”

Silence falls over the communication line. Once again, Sanji doesn't know what else to say – _thanks for not turning up as a head in a box_ won't really cut it, but then, anything beginning with the word _thanks_ would probably do a better job at offing Zeff than the Vinsmokes. Nobody needs to witness a repeat of Sanji’s departure from the Baratie, so Sanji hastily scrubs a sleeve across his face and hopes that the silence in the room means that both Zeff and Zoro have fallen asleep.

“Thanks old man,” he whispers, still hoping not to be heard. “Shit, I need a cigarette.”

He, of course, gets neither of these things.

“ _Keep your thanks_ ,” Zeff grumbles. “ _I've had enough of those._ _You –_ ”

Muffled conversation drifts through the den den mushi. The other chefs must be waking to prepare for the breakfast shift. Sanji scrubs his face again, trying to think of anything to say other than _goodbye_.

“ _Don't bother me again until you've found our ocean,_ ” Zeff grunts, saving them both from that sappy disaster.

“If I had my way, I'd never bother you again,” Sanji retorts, and he means via the den den mushi, means calling Zeff at stupid hours of the night, but before he can backtrack and explain this, Zeff hums a non-committal noise and says:

“ _Just as well you're an idiot that nobody listens to then_.”

And then hangs up.

“Wow,” Zoro says, obviously not blind, deaf, or mute anymore, and Sanji lobs the den den mushi at him.

(He catches it – no surprise).

(The surprise is the packet of cigarettes that he throws back).

 

 

 

The Rock haunts Sanji that night. He jolts awake in a feverish sweat as the jagged edge of the boulder is thrust down in Zeff’s clammy, resolute hands. A sharp breath inhales through his nose, wordless sound catching in his throat, and in the second it takes to feel the bedsheets, hear the Sunny, and see his nakama slumbering safe through the gloom, all Sanji is aware of is the taste of sea salt overpowering everything in his mouth.

“Wha…?”

There is snickering laughter beside him; Luffy lifts a dozy head into view. Sanji spits his captain’s hair from his mouth.

“Luffy?” he wheezes, the sight of his partner chasing the lingering sensations of his nightmare away – the dirt beneath him, the cries of sea birds, the blood soaking his hands. “I thought…?”

 _I thought you were sleeping in Zoro’s bed tonight?_ he hopes his dazed expression conveys.

“You needed a hug,” Luffy replies a-matter-of-factly, one of his hands fiddling with the end of Sanji’s top. “You okay now?”

Well, Sanji’s sweating like an animal and might not be getting back to sleep tonight, but – “Yeah, sure.”

Luffy scrunches his face in doubt. “Are you? Is he?” he asks, throwing the question through the darkness.

“How am I supposed to know?” Zoro replies from the next hammock over, the walls creaking as he rocks it with his foot, the arc swinging back and forth, back and forth. Luffy’s legs bend and straighten with the motion, the captain’s body still half-sprawled over Zoro, and he must have woken the swordsman as he crawled right over to Sanji’s bed.

“I'm fine,” Sanji assures with more conviction. He shoves the captain gently, encouraging him back to Zoro’s side. “Get outta my face.”

Luffy whines like a puppy, but Sanji refuses to be swayed. “Can't I stay here?”

“No. Who's on watch? I'll go and relieve them.”

He makes it as far as the bedroom floor before Luffy is bouncing down after him.

“I'll come with you!” he declares, voice a loud whisper as their nakama snore about them. Moonlight seeps in through the portholes so it must be late, and yet still far too early to think about cooking.

Sanji shrugs himself out of his vest top and then chucks it at Luffy as though this could slow him down. “I'm not making breakfast yet, so pipe down.”

“I don't want breakfast yet,” Luffy insists, a bold announcement to Sanji raises a swirly eyebrow. “Okay, I _do_ , but I'll come do the watch with you! Unless…?”

The puppy-dog eyes defeat him once again. Sanji relents, changing from his night clothes with a sigh, but then grudgingly waits around until Luffy has located his shoes.

And disturbed the first mate once again, it seems, the captain poking his head over the side of Zoro’s hammock to bat his innocent eyes.

“Hey, hey, Zoro, you coming too?”

“Why would I come,” is the grunted reply, and one dark eye glowers through the silvery light.

“Well you're up, aren't you?” Luffy laughs, tugging the swordsman’s arm. “Bring a pillow!”

Zoro huffs as though this is the stupidest idea he's ever heard, and yet in under a minute he has rolled from the hammock and is padding across the open deck beside them. One of his hands is clasped tightly Luffy’s, almost as if the captain is worried that he will wander off, and in Luffy’s other hand is one of Sanji’s, the grip less insistent but no less secure.

They relieve Robin from the watch, who merely smiles at the sight of Luffy swinging between two of his crew. Zoro promptly throws the pillow into a corner and smushes his face into it; it's weird to see him so tired, and Sanji cannot help but wonder if his nightmares were keeping him up. Luffy procures a pack of cards from literally _nowhere_ and drags Sanji into a game before he can worry about it, and so by the time that the sun rises and the ocean gleams in the final moonlight rays, all thoughts of the Rock have been swept away.

 

 

 

At the next island, the rain is fat and endless, but the cold, squishy earth and the thunderous sky do little in deterring Luffy from hunting the forest for food. _Maybe it will stop_ , Chopper says, looking to Nami for guidance, but it’s the locals who answer and laugh at the crew’s despair – _stop?_ they cry, shaking water-logged hair from their water-logged smiles, _come back in six months and it might!_

“‘Might’?” Usopp repeats, whispering to the crew as the locals continue on with their business, shopping and playing and working despite the rain. What they do with all of the water is a mystery, but Usopp’s expression doesn’t suggest that he really wants to know. “Please tell me that we won’t be here that long.”

“How long does the log pose take to set?” Sanji asks, hoping the answer is only a matter of hours. Keeping a cigarette lit is a pain in the damp, and he shoves the lighter back into his pocket after another failed attempt.

Nami shakes her head, waving the log pose for them all to see. It whirls around in circles, never settling, never deciding, but the navigator’s expression is set in determination despite this worrisome display. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve not been following it anyway.”

“Err,” Sanji says, since this is news to _him_. Nobody else seems to find this declaration disturbing; not even Luffy, who is still trying, and failing, to drag Zoro into a puddle. “Since when?”

“Punk Hazard. I don’t know why I’m wearing it – it’s useless, really.”

“It might still be some use, sis,” Franky reasons from above them both, holding an umbrella high over their heads. “Valuable, at any rate, and made of some super cool parts!”

“I suppose,” Nami says, considering the log pose with a smile. “At least if I hang onto it, Luffy won't smash this one too.”

Sanji laughs. That had been so long ago now, but for all they've changed, grown, and seen the world without the East Blue tint of rose, Luffy breaking another log pose is still a very real possibility.

“Hey, hey!” the captain calls, arms wobbling up in the air. He is drenched to the bone but laughing wildly, and beside him looking miserable is Zoro, equally soaked despite the umbrella he has hidden them both under. “We're going hunting! Usopp, you gotta come with us!”

“W – what? Me?” the sniper splutters, eyes frantically seeking help from the nakama around him. “You don't want _me_ there, I'll just go back and watch the ship with Robin and the others –”

“Nu-uh,” Luffy replies, already bouncing over to drag Usopp and his protests away. “We need to get dinner _and_ you can try out your new haki, yeah? This is how I trained with Rayleigh! It'll be great, come on!”

Franky blinks. “Yo, Usopp-bro can use haki?”

“He’s been holding out on us,” Nami agrees, watching Luffy pull the sniper away with a smirk on her face. Usopp whines and struggles the entire time, but there isn't much he can do once Zoro follows along behind, dutifully blocking the escape route.

“I need to restock on herbs,” Chopper announces then, tiny under his own umbrella. “Do you want to find the market, Sanji?”

“Sure, pass up your umbr –”

“HEY SANJI,” comes a bellow from down the street, Luffy hollering and waving to draw their attention. Sanji almost bellows back _WHAT_ , but hurting Nami’s eardrums is the last thing he wants to do.

“D’YOU WANNA COME PRACTICE YOUR NEW HAKI TOO?” the captain roars.

Sanji thinks better of flipping him off, but only just. Somebody in this relationship has to be civilised, and Luffy doesn't truly deserve his ire – although blurting out _the thing that happened at Whole Cake that they really, REALLY weren't going to talk about_ to half of the crew without a care is cutting Sanji’s patience pretty fine.

“Bro,” Franky begins, once Luffy and Zoro have ushered Usopp deep into the forest. His hair flops electric blue and sodden over his face, but it does nothing to detract from his grin. “That sounded like a date.”

“Tough shit. I've got groceries to buy.”

“Yeouch, bro.”

“I thought you could already use two types of haki?” Chopper asks - and that's the crux of the matter, isn't it?

“All the more reason not to go galloping into the forest with them then, hmm?” Sanji agrees, encouraging the little doctor along. Nami emits a thoughtful noise behind him but doesn't call him back, and considering Sanji doesn't know if he'd be able to lie to her about this, he's grateful for her silence.

(“Who says ‘galloping’?” Franky muses.

“Who says ‘bro’?” Nami fires back with a roll of her eyes. Her gaze lingers on Sanji’s and Chopper’s retreating backs, but the cyborg beside her gasps and clutches his chest dramatically before she can think much of the matter.

“Don't diss _the bro_ ,” he breathes, and Nami heaves a sigh).

The sights and smells of the market - damp, squelchy mud and a peppering of spices, hot food amidst rain - distracts Chopper from enquiring any further. Sanji’s glad for that too - skirting the truth is easier with Chopper, although his babyish eyes and button nose put up a fight. The market draws them in, and the locals are kind despite the miserable weather. They tease the Strawhats’ oversized raincoats and umbrellas, but provide shelter and warm towels when the rain cascades down in buckets through lunch, Chopper’s water-logged fur encouraging sympathetic looks.

“I hope they're all right out in the forest,” Chopper mumbles, nose pressed up against the café window. He is holding a cup of hot milk between his hooves, and one of his antlers clatters against the glass every time a thunderclap makes him jump.

Sanji hums from the other side of the table, personally enjoying the downpour. A drag from a cigarette seems like a small price to pay to witness the peculiarities of the New World, although he certainly wouldn't pass up a dry cigarette were anybody to offer one, that's for sure.

“Usopp’ll keep them in check,” he says; for all of the sniper’s whimpering and fear, he has a solid head on his shoulders. Plus, Zoro’s presence seems to bring out the long-nose’s confidence, so if anybody is likely to be ganged up upon, it's Luffy.

Chopper sighs, ears flicking. “It's Usopp I'm worried about. I hope Luffy doesn't get too excited by his observation haki and get them into a sticky situation or something.”

“Chopper, that's basically guaranteed at this point.”

The reindeer laughs shortly. “I _know_. I just don't want them to get hurt – not when everyone's still recovering from fighting Kaido. Luffy fought Big Mom too. _And_ the Vinsmokes.”

The unexpected reminder of the Vinsmokes has Sanji’s stomach curling. The last of his bandages were removed just a few days ago, and his hands are back to their unblemished, pasty pink, but sometimes he swears that he can still feel the manacles threatening to explode at his wrists.

“I guess,” he says, aware of how lucky he'd been. Not having the hands to cook or even the finger to slide a wedding ring onto had been a real possibility; he's not sure what Big Mom and Pudding would have done then, but he's sure that they would've come up with something. They hadn't wanted him for his hands – a ring to bind him to their family was all that they needed, and the silver handcuffs would've sufficed.

Chopper flusters, probably reading Sanji’s thoughts straight from his face. “Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean – we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

Thunder rumbles outside. Further into the cafe, another customer laughs. Sanji uncurls his hands from the teacup, watching the muscles relax.

“No, it's fine.” Or it _will be_ , he realises, listening to the rain pitter-patter against the window.  His nakama have proven time and time again that harming their own warrants no mercy, and Sanji had known that Luffy would follow him to Whole Cake just as he would follow the captain in return. That didn’t make his relief any less heartfelt, and that didn't make his fear any less profound, but he's safe now, far away from the cell of his nine-year-old self.

He's _safe now_ , Sanji tells himself, listening to the rain washing away the day.

He swallows, trying a smile. It can't be that bad, he concludes, because Chopper doesn't immediately protest at the sight of it. “Thanks for not – not calling them ‘my family’.”

The doctor is quiet, eyes dropping to fix upon his drink. The milk probably isn't very warm now, but there seems to be other things on his mind. “My herd didn't want me,” he whispers, and Sanji has heard this sad tale before – he's _lived_ this sad tale before. “They thought I was weird with my blue nose and – they just – always used to leave me behind. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I was never included in anything, and then one day I realised that I might as well just…”

“Not be there,” Sanji agrees, and Chopper laughs so bitterly that it sounds like he's seconds from crying. But no – he's stronger than that, and instead the reindeer merely nods, looking less like the child that they took from Drum than ever before.

“I tried so hard to fit in. But then I met Doctor Hiluluk and I think I was trying to fit in with the wrong people all along.”

Sanji’s thoughts drift unbidden from the Vinsmokes’ strict regime to the Baratie and that rowdy, ragtag crew, and he can only agree. “Guess we had a lot to learn, back then.”

He's glad for it too. The Vinsmokes and the Rock were periods that he never wants to repeat, but they gave him his love of cooking, they gave him Zeff, and most of all, they gave him his dream.

“I guess we just gave our hearts to people that didn't deserve them,” Chopper mutters, lifting his chin bravely. _Right?_ his big eyes appear to ask, as if he needs confirmation from anyone - or as if he needs to hear _Sanji_ agree.

Sanji smiles, ruffling the doctor’s fur. “Come on, the rain’s letting up. You want to return to the market?”

Chopper hesitates a moment, and so Sanji _bops_ him on the nose. He is sure that his nakama can understand what he cannot say. “I bet we can find a bakery to buy some treats.”

“Like doughnuts?” comes the hopeful reply.

Sanji makes a show of thinking about it as he ushers them back into their coats. “In _this_ weather?” he drawls, adjusting Chopper’s hood. The doctor smiles, and he smiles back.

“I bet they sell _hot_ doughnuts.”

 

 

 

The hunting party bring back a beast of a bear before dinner; Zoro slings it down at Sanji’s feet as though it's little more than a bag of feathers, and even Usopp beams with pride.

“Is this your way of flirting,” Sanji deadpans, nudging the bear just in case it's still alive. _One time_ was one time too many, and he doesn't really want a bear of this size to spring up and make a run for it when everyone's backs are turned.

“Usopp shot it!” Luffy says, slapping the sniper’s back proudly. “He was so cool!”

That’s neither a _yes_ nor a _no_. Sanji’s swirly eyebrows rise as he looks to the flustered sniper. “Is this _your_ way of flirting?”

“N – no! I wasn't – _no!_ ”

It's hard not to feel a tiny bit insulted at that vehement denial (good god, three’s a crowd and he's completely _not interested_ , but Usopp could've at least _pretended_ to think about it) but Sanji plays it smooth. “Relax long-nose, I was teasing.”

Usopp wheezes in relief, clutching his chest.

(Weirdly enough, Zoro also looks faintly relieved).

They decide to set sail at first light, leaving the night free for the crew to do as they please. Nami orders the hunting party to bathe before wandering around the Sunny _smelling like wet dogs_ , and Chopper decides to join Usopp in the first bath since he is – as he mutters to Sanji – _the one with all the damp fur_. That leaves Luffy and Zoro to bathe second, and though Sanji’s sure that they aren't the type to _scheme_ , he still finds himself the victim of a kidnapping when bath-time arises.

The only reason that they get away with is it that they had the foresight to send _Luffy_ as the vanguard. Sanji definitely would've put up more of a fight had he found himself hauled over _Zoro’s_ shoulder and carried off through the ship – or, so he tells himself anyway.

Luffy seems quite chuffed with himself. Zoro just throws Sanji a towel and tells him to _wipe off that stupid expression, cook_ – although, once Luffy has dive-bombed into the bathtub and Sanji has folded up his clothes, the swordsman does offer an almost sympathetic, _he doesn't know the meaning of the word “date” either_.

Well that – explains a lot.

Regardless of what this weird, bath-time bonding experience is or is _not_ , Sanji isn't going to chicken out. Sharing hot springs and baths with the other guys on the ship is nothing new, and he's certainly does his fair share of ensuring that Luffy doesn't drown in the tub. Still - platonic, _hey we're nakama_ nudity and _we've honestly spoken about fucking_ nudity are a little different, but Sanji hopes that the steam filling up the room provides an excuse for his flush.

The tub isn't big enough for three, not comfortably at any least, so Sanji opts to scrub himself on the stool while Zoro keeps Luffy afloat. Luffy just laughs and kicks ripples into the bath, entirely at ease as Zoro slaps a handful of soap into his hair; his beloved hat is tucked safely out of reach beside Wadō Ichimonji and the other katana, and Sanji had placed his clothes and cigarettes amongst the pile and felt bizarrely domestic about it.

“Hey Sanji, Sanji,” Luffy calls, and though Sanji has never understood the captain’s need to repeat almost every name that tumbles out of his mouth, he has never asked him to clarify. “You should've come hunting with us! Usopp was _so cool_ – Zoro, Zoro, wasn't Usopp cool? He's the best marksman ever! He took down that little kid with the eyepatch-monocle thing on Dressrosa from like _miles_ away!”

“Sugar,” Zoro provides dispassionately, yanking Luffy’s shoulders from beneath the water-line. With a firm, _don’t stop kicking_ , he dumps a cup of water over the captain’s head, and Luffy laughs sluggishly from where he’s propped over the edge of the bathtub.

“Yeah – Sugar! Doffy was so mad; it was _AMAZING_! He put this massive reward on Usopp’s head when he was hunting us all down. I wish I'd seen his face – and Usopp’s!”

He splutters again as Zoro tips another cupful of water over his head, batting the swordsman’s hands away. Zoro lets himself be defended against, rolling his sole eye as Luffy whines at the soap-suds bubbling down his face.

“Come on,” the first mate sighs, his tone of a man well-practiced in bathing toddlers. “You gonna fight me?”

 _Yes_ , says Luffy’s pout. “I beat Doffy.”

“ _Right_. What a shame we didn’t have a bath on Dressrosa. Doflamingo would’ve never known what hit him.”

“He didn’t anyway,” Luffy mumbles, eyeing the cup of water in his first mate’s hand with caution.

Zoro just laughs before dunking the captain under the surface.

“Sounds like you caused a lot of trouble on Dressrosa,” Sanji comments, unable not to smile at their bickering. Luffy is useless in the tub, rubbery limbs turned to iron and stone, and while Sanji would never say that Zoro _enjoys_ chucking the captain into the depths, he does seem to get some sense of satisfaction out of it.

“I'd say it was Usopp mostly,” Zoro deadpans, to which Luffy hollers _GOD USOPP!!!_ as he is yanked up for air. He begins to laugh at the top of his lungs, flopped over Zoro like a soggy teatowel, but Zoro doesn't seem to mind.

“Except at the colosseum,” he adds, taking the time to scrub his own hair now that the captain is thoroughly drenched.

“For… Ace’s Devil Fruit?” Sanji replies, remembering that hasty den den mushi call as Big Mom threatened the Sunny and Doflamingo defeated Law. That had been so long ago now, but Sanji knows that he probably still would have challenged the yonko if he had known what she had planned.

“Oh yeah!” Luffy cries. “That was great – hey, that's where I met Rebecca!”

“So you got the Fruit?”

“Nope! Sabo ate it!” Luffy laughs as though this _isn't_ news worthy of tracking down and _ending_ whoever this Sabo is, but the fact is that Luffy is grinning wildly and pleased, and Sanji can only stare.

Realisation takes a long, awkward moment of sudden silence to catch up with Luffy. “Aaaaagh! You weren't there! Sabo’s my other brother who I thought was dead!”

After dropping that bombshell, he launches into the tale of what occurred at Dressrosa. Zoro pitches in occasionally to clarify some of the more far-fetched explanations (“They were little. And squeaky. And she could only _temporarily_ heal people.”) but where a (hopefully terrible) impression of Pica’s squeaky voice leaves them in fits of laughter, a recollection of Sabo’s return has Luffy blubbering into the bathtub, tears hot and snotty unlike the rain splattering against the Sunny’s rooftops.

Sanji swaps places with Zoro about halfway through the account, so by the time the conversation leaves Dressrosa long behind and sails into the events of Whole Cake island, Luffy’s exposure to the water has left him pliant and goofy, his head resting against Sanji’s shoulder with no intention to move. Only now, it's Zoro who missed those catastrophic events, and Luffy looks to Sanji for guidance as the Vinsmokes’ immorality comes into question.

“Judge wanted to make an army that could terrorise any sea,” Sanji begins, thinking of the lab and the creations he had found there. “So he started with genetic experiments; he started with us. Only – I was a failure.”

Zoro doesn't ask any questions. He sits solemn and attentive, a statue glowering and wrapped up in a towel. Sanji skips over the memories of his childhood that he cannot bear to remember – his mother, her smile daffodil yellow and her skin icy cold. He discusses Judge’s plan in detail, the alliance with Big Mom, and Pudding’s unexpected involvement, but he steers clear of his siblings and the abuse at their hands. His body is evidence enough for that – _you'll scar_ , Chopper had warned him, as though there hasn't been scars there all along. Zoro’s a dumbarse but he's not stupid, but he keeps quiet as Luffy jumps in to explain the events leading up his crashing the wedding – the first Sanji has heard of them too.

“I can’t believe I didn’t jump out of the cake,” he bemoans, padding across the bathroom to fetch a towel. The water is cold now, dirty and foamy and speckled with blood, and it must be time to start dinner, Sanji thinks idly, as Luffy buries his face into the towel.

“But maybe –” the captain goes on, mumbling the words into the cloth. “If I had – then maybe we wouldn't’ve gotten to Sanji’s cuffs in time.”

“Time?” Zoro echoes, passing Sanji a towel. When Sanji’s face twists in horror, if only for a moment, if only before he can control it, Zoro scowls, seeming to realise that he has missed a vital piece of information somewhere within Luffy’s ramblings.

“Before they blew up,” Luffy provides, and he says it so casually that Sanji laughs.

Zoro doesn't seem to appreciate the joke – and that's the joke, isn't it, that the Vinsmokes could still reduce Sanji to a lower level of _nothing_. “Blew up? What – _hand_ cuffs?”

They both nod. The tub drains noisily behind them, sucking and slurping and gagging in the face of Zoro’s _thunderous_ expression.

“ _Fuckers_!”

He snatches Sanji’s wrist, yanking it up to inspection. Sanji emits a startled _hey!_ and fights for it back, but Zoro stays firm, continuing to damn the Vinsmokes to hell as he manoeuvres the cook’s arm to his satisfaction.

“It turned out okay,” Luffy reassures, mouth set in a grim line. No doubt they all look a little ridiculous standing there in nothing but towels, but that's probably not what Zoro is thinking about as a blush rises up his neck.

“Curly almost getting his hands blown up is not _okay_ ,” he grumbles, shoving Sanji’s arm back towards its disgruntled - and weirdly flattered – owner. Truthfully, Zoro’s concern is both condescending _and_ adorable, and Sanji is glad for the opportunity to witness a flustered Zoro even if said opportunity arose from – well.

Zoro’s right. His hands almost exploding is not _okay_ , but Luffy’s cheeky smile as the swordsman fumbles around for his dignity certainly _is_.

“His ears go all pink when he’s embarrassed,” Luffy says in a loud whisper, quirking a smile at Sanji. Zoro swears as he climbs back into his trousers, but Luffy is not to be deterred. “It's the best.”

 _Huh_. “Every time?”

“Yep. He tries to hide it.”

Sanji grins back. “With what? That meadow of grass on his head?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Zoro hisses, scarlet and furious. “You _too_ , Luffy.”

Luffy whines. “Awww, but it's true!”

“I don't give a _damn_ if it's true.”

“But if it wasn't true, you wouldn't be embarrassed!”

Zoro’s mouth opens, hangs there for a glorious second, and then slams shut. Forgoing a shirt, he scoops up his katana and storms out without another word, but they both know that he's gone to sweat out his mortification in the pseudo-privacy of the crow’s nest.

“He's so easy to tease,” Sanji says.

Luffy agrees, tugging him closer. Sanji goes willingly, shyness forgotten in his enjoyment of Zoro’s burning embarrassment. If Zoro had stuck around, then maybe he could've discovered just how low his blush travels.

“But he _was_ worried you know,” the captain says, hugging Sanji tight. He doesn't go as far as to offer a kiss this time, but the way his damp hair sticks to Sanji’s shoulder is basically the same thing.

(Sanji doesn't go as far as to flick his stupid captain away, but he rolls his eyes and that's basically the same thing).

“I know, you idiot. Now let me go so I can make a start on dinner –”

“DINNER.”

The shout has Sanji’s ears _pounding_ , but Luffy has the decency to titter a guilty laugh as he unwinds himself.

“Sheesh,” Sanji curses, rubbing his aching ears. “I think everyone on the ship heard you.”

For some reason, this has Luffy’s eyes sparkling. “Really? You think so? That’s great! Cover your ears!”

“What, why –”

“ZORO’S CUTE WHEN HE'S EMBARRASSED AND I LOVE HIM A LOT.”

Somewhere distantly – and Sanji doesn't need to guess where – something hits the floor with a _THUNK_. Hooting laughter rises up through the lower decks. From somewhere else, a bellow from Nami can just be heard:

“LUFFY. PUT A BELI IN THE PDA JAR.”

Luffy whines and rummages through his towel as though somebody had the stupidity to sew pockets into it.

“We have a public displays of affection jar?” Sanji asks, certain that this can't be true.

“Eh? ‘Displays’? Nami said it was my public _declarations_ of affection jar but Zoro doesn't have one which is unfair.”

There is nothing Sanji can ever do to unhear that. He'll have to find this jar, he thinks, if only to see the monetary value of Luffy’s love for his first mate. Knowing Nami, the jar is probably a _bucket_.

“Did you ever wonder _why_ Zoro doesn't have one?”

Luffy doesn't so much as _think_ about it. “‘Cause he owes Nami enough money already? No wait! Maybe he has _another kind_ of jar! Nami must've been taking beli from him all along!”

Sanji almost asks _what kind_ , but after a wise deliberation, he decides that he's probably better off not knowing.

 

 

 

Zoro’s hand lingers against Sanji’s when the dinner plate is passed between them.

“You're an idiot,” he says – they both say, unmarred skin against unmarred skin. The plate is hot and demands to be placed, but there is no reason for Sanji to stand so close, no reason for Zoro’s gaze to track the inside of the wrist just peeking from the shirt’s cufflinked sleeve.

“Moron,” Zoro says, meaning _thanks_..

“Shut up and eat your greens,” Sanji throws back, meaning exactly that.

(Usopp snorting juice up his nose _thankfully_ ruins the mood).

 

 

 

The bedroom, as Franky reveals just a few days later, the rain still drumming down onto the Sunny’s grassy deck, is pretty much a fancy closet with nifty storage spaces and hand built shelves, but it's the _bed_ that draws wondrous exclamations from the captain, and rightly so. –

It's a _big_ bed.

“I was going to squeeze another cabinet in,” Franky explains, patting the low chest of drawers that he's already miraculously made space for. “But then I figured that I couldn't possibly make the bed _too_ big, so I decided to go for it. Super huh? There's some shelving built into the wall, and you gotta check out the cupboards over there –”

“This bed –” Luffy declares, having already thrown himself onto the mattress and stretched out like a star fish. His Devil Fruit allows him to hook his feet around the width, so Sanji doesn't imagine and he and Zoro are going to have much luck. “– IS AWESOME. It's MASSIVE. And COMFY. Come try it out, come on!”

Sanji and Zoro glance at each other, Franky blubbering happy tears behind them; _you first_ , their expressions convey, neither man moving at the command of their captain. Sanji is well-rehearsed in the practice in being Luffy’s pillow, and he'd rather Zoro befall that mortification while in Franky’s presence. The shipwright is just a bit too… _everything_ for Sanji’s comfort, and he itches for a cigarette as Franky’s wailing increases.

“Don't you like it, bros?”

(How can the addition of a single letter make that so much worse?)

“We do!” Luffy insists, flashing a smile at his partners. “Don't we?”

“Err,” they say. Zoro rolls his gaze to the ceiling and sets his katana aside, succumbing to Luffy’s not-so-gentle order. Sanji isn't so quick to budge, and he makes the point to smile smugly as the swordsman joins Luffy on the bed.

“Huh. Not bad,” is Zoro’s appraisal, but that's before Luffy leaps over and sprawls out all over him. Protesting squawks and laughter ensure, but on the plus side, their rolling about has Franky flashing a ‘thumbs up’ before high-tailing it to a sexual-tension-free deck of the Sunny.

“How _many times_ do I have to say –” Zoro roars, fighting from beneath the elasticated hold. “– I am _not your pillow_!”

“But you're squishy!”

“ _I am not squishy!_ ”

“And Sanji’s _bony_ ,” Luffy warbles, shooting the cook a nervous look. “He's not as fun to lie on.”

“ _Bony_?” Sanji cries, affronted at Zoro’s laughter.

“But you like hugs though!” Luffy quickly adds, trying to redeem himself. He blinks the undeniable puppy-dog eyes and Sanji’s anger crumbles. “Zoro still doesn't like hugs no matter how much I surprise him with them.”

Sanji decides not to mention that the unpredictable nature of the hugs may be reason for that.

Zoro huffs, now the one feeling insulted. “So why are you _lying on me_?”

“Well Franky’s gone now so I can lie on you all I want! I can't believe we have our own _room_ now – isn't that so cool? Whaddo you think they can hear from above deck? D’you think they'll be able to hear Sanji’s snoring?”

“I do _not_ snore.”

With one final shove, Luffy bounces across the bed and Zoro is free to scramble to the illusion of personal space in the corner. “If Nami can hear your PDA, Luffy, then she'll hear his snoring.”

Luffy howls with laughter, clutching at his sides. “Yeah she will!” he shrieks, the duvet creasing beneath him as he rolls about. One of his flip-flops flings through the air and the other almost swipes Zoro across the face, but they are both too entertained by Sanji’s spluttering to notice. “She’ll be so mad!”

“ _I don’t snore_ ,” Sanji insists.

“You do, you do!”

“Luffy I will _strangle_ you.”

“Oh, wait, wait! Come sit on the bed first! It's really great!”

Grudgingly, Sanji allows himself to be tugged onto the mattress to see what all of the fuss is about. He vows to enact his revenge the second that Luffy’s demands are appeased, but his slide onto the bed sort of morphs into a sprawl, and by the time he has buried his face into one of the _extremely plush_ pillows and practically sunk like a happy puddle into the bed, Sanji has forgotten what he was even mad about.

There is movement about him, two equally sluggish bodies settling on either side. Luffy giggles and props his chin onto Sanji’s shoulder, sing-songing a cheeky _I told you_. On the other side, lying with his arms crossed behind his head is Zoro, and Sanji turns his head to glower at the moss-head’s stupid smile.

They're inches away. This must be the first time they've ever shared a bed.

“Huh,” Zoro says, apparently realising the same thing. Unexpectedly, he reaches out to settle Sanji’s fringe back into place, but then he must decide that one tender action is enough, for he adds, “Your eyebrows look even dumber this close.”

Sanji bristles, remembering his vow to strangle someone. It might as well be Zoro, he decides, and he would have shot up and _smothered_ the weed-brained plant life had Luffy not taken that moment to blow a raspberry into the back of his neck.

Sanji hits the _roof_.

Luffy laughs so hard that he tumbles straight off of the bed and _THUMPS_ against the floor, hair and limbs flailing uncontrollably. Zoro – the fucker – ends up safe and sound on the bed to himself, but this soon changes once Sanji peels himself from the lampshade and the _launches_ himself at the captain, Luffy instantly bouncing back onto the mattress to escape the fiery kick.

“WaaaAAAAAAHHH Sanji I'm sorry, I'm sor –!”

Zoro wields a pillow with all of the ferocity of his blades and _TWUMPHS_ the captain straight across the face. Luffy goes _sailing_ through the room, bouncing once, twice, and then rebounding into the wardrobe, and from above deck there is a shriek of _KEEP IT DOWN_ from Nami that they all pretend not to hear.

The fight ends in a draw – although they'll all insist that they won. There are feathers in Sanji’s hair and wooden splinters in Zoro’s, and the unavoidable _growing a tree?_ joke almost starts the entire brawl again. Luffy chucking them both onto the bed and then wiggling himself between them like a spoilt puppy saves the bedroom from further destruction, and Franky will be pleased, at any least, as is Sanji once Luffy gets comfortable and Zoro relieves the tension with a sigh.

“Guess the bed is big enough!” Luffy snickers. “Can it be night-time yet? I wanna try it out properly!”

One of Zoro’s arms is stuck under the captain’s head. The other one bends up and pokes a finger into Luffy’s tummy, a cat prodding its owner for affection or food.

“We don't have to wait till night-time,” Zoro says, and while it's _suggestive_ but not particularly _needy_ on his part, like he's stating a fact rather than expressing a burning desire, it’s feels as though the statement snaps a lightbulb on in Sanji’s mind.

The question blurts out in fits and starts, a vague gesture sweeping between Luffy’s and Zoro’s perplexed expressions accompanying not really doing much to clarify:

“Have you two been… doing…? Whenever? Since me? Wano. Or something. At all?”

Luffy’s _huh?_ doesn't come as a surprise. “Been what?” he asks, turning over to watch Sanji bury his face into his hands.

“You mean _fucking_?” Zoro guesses incredulously, catching on with astounding speed for a directionless chunk of algae. “You asking -?”

“Yes,” says Sanji.

“No,” says Luffy.

To which Sanji splutters _what??_ just as Zoro raises his voice to ask, “Did you think we _were_?”

“Yes! _Well_ \- I don't know, that's why I was _asking_.”

They glare at each other over Luffy’s oddly silent head.

“Don't get pissy with me, cook.”

“It was a _valid_ _question_ , moss-brains. We haven't spoken about this since -” He waves a hand, although Zoro’s the only one to see it. “You know! I thought that _maybe_ you two would still be doing whatever you did _before_ \- that's not a stupid presumption -”

“But we're a three,” Luffy interrupts, scowling at Zoro’s collarbone as though that's the source of his confusion.

Sanji would throw his hands up were he not lying atop one of them. “ _Yes_ , but - but we're not _realistically_ going to be having - _fucking_ as a - _with all_ three of us all of the time, are we?”

Luffy and Zoro look to each other; it's the look that needs no words, the one that strategises and triumphs, the one where Sanji’s as helpless as the tide between the moon and the sun.

“We're not?” Luffy asks.

“News to me,” Zoro agrees, lifting a sharp eyebrow. “Is that how things are done?”

“Dunno. Sanji?”

They both look to him, Luffy’s expression openly curious and Zoro’s resolute and calm, still sporting a yellowish bruise from the pillow-fight.

Sanji wants to merge wholly and instantaneously with the bed. “I just thought -” He swallows, lips pressing together. Forcing himself to be truthful is a pain in the arse; they've already been _over this_ , briefly, and in a slightly different context, but _still_. Clearly he was the only one still worrying about the practicalities of this relationship. “I never wanted to get between you, that's all.”

Zoro’s eyebrows _shoot_ up.

“ _Not like that!_ ” Sanji roars.

Zoro quirks that infuriating smile. Only Luffy lying between them prevents Sanji from wiping it from his stupid face.

“All right cook, I didn't say anything.”

“I knew what you were _thinking_.”

“Yeah? So then we both agree that you're dumb."

“You -”

“I think,” Luffy begins, interjecting softly and yet commanding silence all the same. “That we should just do things how we wanna do them. Why should we listen to the rules when they don't know anything about us?”

He rolls onto his back and smiles at them both. Sanji and Zoro blink at him as though there are sunspots blinding their eyes, and then share a dazed expression above him.

“I guess we _are_ pirates,” Sanji agrees, and Zoro shrugs a one-shouldered consent, his earrings tinkling.

“If you two wanna have sex without me, then that's cool,” Luffy continues, smiling easily.

They both tut, replying, “Same to you,” with voices stern and leaving no room for argument, and Luffy laughs.

 

 

 

Sex doesn't become an immediate _thing_ , but the time they spend apart from the rest of the crew certainly begins to adopt an atmosphere of _something_. It's still fun, time passed by bickering and chatting, sparring with Zoro (yelling at him) and chucking Luffy across the ship (yelling at him too), but the hugs and looks and casual touches grow in confidence, less like exploration and more like _determination_.

The whole sleeping-in-a-bed-with-two-other-people thing is weird, but not as weird as Sanji was anticipating. Whoever is on the night watch does have to squidge himself between the others - unless said person is Luffy, who simply flops over the top - but Franky has outdone himself yet again. Pillows and blankets galore mean that fighting over the covers is scarcely an issue, and everyone can sleep how they want to until Luffy gets into bed, anyway, which is much more amiable than the hammocks even with most mornings beginning with detangling oneself from the captain.

Sanji is usually the first one up - unless Zoro volunteers for a double nightwatch shift, or simply finds himself unable to sleep and the bed a stifling place to relax. Mornings become a time where it is just the two of them, with Luffy spread out like a starfish in the bed to himself, although occasionally one of their nakama interrupts their pre-breakfast barter in the gallery. If it is Brook, he will tinker a greeting and totter around until his morning tea is brewed, and Jinbe will often politely excuse himself whereas Robin will not, preferring instead to move unheard and almost entirely forgotten around the kitchen until she clears her throat and Sanji launches at least a foot into the air.

“Don’t mind me,” she’ll say, a twinkle in her eye as though she hasn’t just witnessed the two men banter and tease and then kiss as cups of coffee and eggs, bread, packets of bacon and all manner of ingredients are passed between them.

“We should start locking the door,” Zoro grumbles after one such time, glaring daggers at the door handle as though Usopp or _Franky_ (god forbid) are seconds away from busting it down.

Sanji _uh-huh_ s, because unless Zoro has been messing around his kitchen in the dead of night, there isn’t even a lock on the door _to lock_. “Shy, moss-head?”

As expected, Zoro glowers.

“ _No_.” That’s a yes. “But someone’s gonna catch us doing stuff eventually.”

“Stuff?” Sanji echoes, appalled by his audacity. Privacy is an illusion on a ship this size; they’ve already been caught doing “stuff” plenty of times, and yet - “You suggesting that we _fuck_ in my _kitchen_?”

Zoro shrugs one shoulder, leaning further back into the kitchen counter as though he would ever be wary of the spatula that Sanji is wielding. “You got any better ideas?”

Hygiene concerns prevent Sanji from smacking him with the spatula, but as he watches Zoro chug half of his coffee, he wishes that he had been cruel enough to dump a spoonful of sugar into it, just to see the man’s expression curl.

“There is _literally_ a bed downstairs,” he reminds, jabbing the eggs in the pan in lieu of jabbing the moron he’s stupidly in love with.

“Luffy’s in it.”

“Well that saves us the trouble of _rounding him up_ , doesn’t it?” Sanji hears himself saying, rolling his eyes from beneath the sweep of his fringe. Zoro’s logic _astounds_ him sometimes - for a first mate with battle instincts on par with their captain, it’s amazing what doesn’t get through his thick skull. Luffy already being in the room that Franky _specifically designed_ for this purpose is something of a miracle with how much the loon bounces around, and as Sanji turns to bemoan about their hyperactive third, he notices that Zoro’s face has tinted an attractive hue.

At first he thinks it’s just the steam from the coffee that has Zoro flushed, but nope, it’s not, because his ears are burning too.

“I mean,” Sanji splutters, realising that his thoughts have just run a _mile_. He can feel his own face lighting up to match, and he pokes one of the eggs with an unnecessary vehemence. It splatters at him, yellow yolk oozing into the pan, and that’s Sanji’s dignity right there. “Unless you just meant - without - or maybe -”

He doesn’t know what he’s saying, but the infirmary door sliding against the floorboards saves him from explaining that blundering embarrassment. Chopper’s eyes are wide when the two spin turn towards him; he squeaks, half-hiding himself behind the door, and his hat nearly topples right off of his head as he tries to deny:

“I didn’t hear anything, I swear! I was just - I didn’t mean to interrupt, _gosh_ , I’m -”

The egg looks quite pitiful, actually.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it Chopper,” Zoro says smoothly, all traces of his flush hidden beneath the calm that never fails to reassure the doctor. Once Chopper has fled back into his infirmary and the gallery silence dips into awkward, however, Zoro flicks his sole eye at Sanji and grumbles into the rim of his mug, “The bed sounds like a good idea.”

Sanji almost asphyxiates on fucking _nothing_.

Actually coordinating the decision to move things into the bedroom, so to speak (although really, they should have been in the bedroom already), turns out to be a particularly challenging endeavour when two thirds of the relationship spend most of their days on opposite ends of the ship, with the remaining third bouncing and ambling and never sitting still in between. How Zoro ever got Luffy to sit down to attempt some awkward fumbling is beyond Sanji, let _alone_ an uninterrupted period long enough to include the entire process of kissing, foreplay, _and_ sex. Granted, Luffy has been vocal about his asexuality and Zoro has never struck Sanji as the type to frequently ask for sex, a suspicion which is confirmed the night that Zoro swaps his night-watch to ensure that they can make their intentions to Luffy clear.

Luffy, to their surprise, hasn’t been entirely oblivious to their plan. “You _can_ wake me if you wanna do stuff. Or don’t! I dunno if it’d be weird if I’m sleeping next to you, but I won’t mind if you move me outside or something - I’ll probably just sleep through it!”

The idea of putting Luffy outside like a disobedient puppy _appalls_ Sanji, and Zoro no doubt feels the same as he shoots the suggestion down. Luffy just laughs, colouring faintly as his nakama rebuff the idea, but Sanji can’t deny that he does make a valid point. Having sex while their third is _right there_ would be kind of weird - wouldn’t it?

“Then wake me!” Luffy decides. “I might wanna join in too! And we can do that if you’re asleep, Sanji; Zoro’s a pretty light sleeper, so that probably won’t be a problem, right?”

“Right,” Sanji says, swallowing hard as his mind clouds with thoughts of having sex with _Luffy_. Of course, he had known that Luffy was happy and willing to partake, but now that he’s here, in the privacy of their own room (on a _bed_ ), with Zoro lazed on his side and Luffy on his back, feet propped up on the headboard, Sanji is reminded that the prospect is very, _very_ real.

He had been planning on finally _accustoming_ himself with the more intimate parts of Zoro’s god-given physique (because it is, come on) come the early hours of the morning, but since Zoro’s _not_ on the night-watch and Luffy is smiling so brightly that he may as well have swallowed the _sun_ …

“I think the cook’s horny,” Zoro says.

“Eh?” is Luffy’s elegant addition, blinking curious eyes as Sanji tries - and fails - to _thuwmp_ the swordsman with a pillow. The pillow hits Luffy instead and he laughs, apparently taking this as confirmation that Sanji’s frustrated cursing is an indicator of _arousal_ , rather than any desire to kick Zoro and his _smug-arse face_ out of the bed.

“You don’t have to say it so crassly!” Sanji hisses.

Zoro just laughs. “What difference does it make? The truth’s the truth. Not everything has to be like your stupid, flowery declarations.”

“Oh like you _don’t_ like them really.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, cook. They’re an embarrassment.”

“ _You’re_ an embarrassment.”

“Aha!” Luffy throwing his arms up into the air interrupts the bickering; at some point during the spat, he had rolled out of the bed and gone rummaging through the drawers, but now he whirls triumphantly and flops back onto the bed with whatever it is that he has found.

The box of condoms is one thing, but it’s the bottle of lubrication that Sanji stares at.

Zoro smirks, unfazed by Luffy’s pluck. He lounges back onto the bed as though the bottle hadn’t just been thrown at his stomach and bounced straight off. “What was that about crass, heh?”

Sanji is definitely outnumbered by stupidity here. “We're gonna… need that?” he asks; _we going that far?_ is what he means, torn between wanting _yes_ and hoping _no_.

“Only if you wanna need to use ‘em,” Luffy says, waggling the bottle of lube at them. “I know Zoro will.”

Zoro’s cry of _oi!_ is unspoken but no less unheard. “Shut up, I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you _always_ do,” Luffy states, as unassuming as a brick through the porthole. Zoro makes a guttural sort of protesting noise and kicks Luffy right off of the bed, and Luffy laughs so hard that Sanji is helpless but to join in, leaving Zoro lying there as bright as a tomato and hissing at them to just _die_.

And that’s - sort of how the rest of the night goes, really.

(That’s sort of how the rest of their lives go, really).

Sanji’s question of, _so how are we going to do this?_ dries up in his throat as Luffy’s hands stretch shameless and unhesitant to Sanji’s vest, the _snap_ of the captain’s rubber the only warning before the shirt is tugged right over his head. Luffy’s own shirt follows shortly after, but by that point Sanji has found the words to berate his casual disregard for folding clothes and shoves away any further attempts at undressing until _somebody has folded that vest, I swear to god, not all of us are barbarians in here_.

Luffy sucks in his lips in an attempt not to argue, looking cheeky and ridiculous and all sorts of attractive, but it’s the way that his wide-eyed glance at Zoro has the swordsman obeying Sanji’s furious whim that _really_ captures Sanji’s attention.

“You gonna make me stand here and fold _all_ your clothes?” Zoro drawls, doing a pretty shoddy job of the vest, if Sanji could say so himself - and he would were his tongue not tied up in knots at the thought of Zoro just maybe, _maybe_ , being happy to get down on his knees right _there_.

“Well,” Sanji replies, hoping his voice isn’t wavering with pure _need_. “That depends on whether Luffy’s gonna get me _out_ of the rest of them.”

He raises a swirly eyebrow at Luffy, asking _well?_

Luffy’s enthusiasm certainly doesn’t disappoint. Not once does it waver, not all through the night, and Sanji’s honestly not sure he’ll ever be able to keep up with the eternal ball of energy that laughs and jokes and touches like everything is a game, like it’s new and exciting and something to be awed. Even Zoro is resistless under Luffy’s hands, happy to be admired as though they haven’t done this a hundred times before, loved and cared and talked with kisses, mapped each other out until they could be one and the same. There’s no way of denying Luffy’s pull, Sanji has learnt, but he goes willingly at the beckon of a body - of two - against his own.

Beyond beginning with undressing and ending with sleep, sex is less of a sequence than what Sanji expected; really, it’s more of a lucky-dip of wants and needs and a smidge of awkward coordination, which must explain why his head is spinning and he’s not really sure _when_ the condoms were opened except that they _are_ , because all he knows is that Luffy looks _great_ when he’s naked and that Zoro’s blush stops at his chest and Sanji really, really wishes that it didn’t.

“Does Sanji remember the safeword?” Luffy asks - not that he’s really in a position to be calling the shots, mind, not with Zoro half-crawled over him and muttering things into his neck that are making him squirm. It’s hot - he’s hot, they’re _both_ hot - and Sanji would honestly be satisfied just with watching them if the alternative were not a very appealing promise of participation.

“Yeah,” he says, distracted by the chime of Zoro’s earrings as the man mouths at Luffy’s jaw. He does remember it - Yubashiri, the blade now buried at Thriller Bark - but what blurts out of Sanji’s mouth is something else instead. “I love you.”

Zoro’s laughter is startled, not it’s usual rumbling low.

“But that’s a stupid safeword,” Luffy grumbles, face scrunching as the swordsman moves away, gaze finding Sanji trying to hide his arousal behind a pillow.

“You wanna fuck me?” is what Zoro says.

And really, what can Sanji say to that other than - “ _Gods yes_.”

Luffy opts to amuse himself with wandering, petting, and fussing hands during the first round - the first of _many_ , that’s for sure - content to play with Sanji’s hair and trace swirls and patterns into Zoro’s skin while his lovers clash and roll and fall together. It’s awkward and Sanji’s nervous, and he doesn’t want to hurt Zoro almost as much as he doesn’t want Luffy to have to _tell him_ that he’s hurting Zoro, but there’s no such thing as too much lube even if it _does_ feel kind of like jelly, which Sanji isn’t going to be able to make for some time, to Luffy’s despair. Zoro has to put a stop to the whole thing just once, just briefly, not due to pain (thank _god_ ), but rather because Luffy’s hands are doodling into his back, and if Zoro’s growl is anything to go by -

“Luffy,” is his warning, red-faced and burning. “For the _love of god_ can you _please_ stop drawing dicks all over my waist.”

Luffy ceases to draw nonsensical pictures after that, but his innocent whistling doesn't leave much to the imagination.

Sanji has to turn away to stop himself from laughing in Zoro’s face, although he's not convinced it would put a damper on things anyway.

(Catching Luffy’s smirk is definitely worth the ire).

 

 

 

The Sunny sails on. The New World whirls around them; the log pose spins at Nami’s wrist. Where the remaining Road Poneglyphs are to be found is anybody’s guess, but Robin scours the libraries and Nami pours over her maps, and Luffy swings his legs from Sunny’s figurehead without a care, assured that his nakama won't lead him astray.

Sabo’s letter sits heavy over the crew - his warning, _be wary of Blackbeard’s control, little brother, even the shadows are hunting you down_ \- but Luffy refuses to let the yonko’s power cower him. The New World is vast and dangerous, full of secrets and ancient roads, mysterious civilisations, and out there somewhere, an island made of gold. The era is pirates is sailing into a war that will change the world, but Luffy just laughs and plays and bounces about, telling them _it's fine,_ _it'll be fun, and we can face the horizon head on_.

They have allies and friends stretched far across the ocean, but most of all they have each other, the Sunny, and the family that she’ll carry to Raftel.

“Thanks,” Sanji says one night, not as asleep as he should be and counting the grooves on the ceiling as the ship rocks through the night. Luffy is tucked under his arm, mumbling semi-nonsense as he stirs from his dreams, and Sanji hadn't meant to wake him just as he hadn't intended to be heard.

Whole Cake is months behind them now, but Luffy is still happy to reassure. “I said I wouldn't leave you behind.”

Sanji smiles, hearing the Sunny creak along with the captain’s will. He hadn't been referring to Whole Cake, not really, and he says as such to the warm body against his own.

“No, I meant - for taking me from Baratie.”

Luffy hums, stretching a leg further over Sanji’s waist to find Zoro, slumbering oblivious on the other side. For a moment, Sanji doesn't think Luffy has understood - or maybe he has drifted off again, Sanji’s hand rubbing circles into his spine - but then Luffy has always been a surprise.

(Everything about this has been a surprise).

“I said I wouldn't you behind,” he says again, yawning as though this topic isn't enough to capture his interest - as though Sanji should know by now (and he should, and he does) what it means to be on Luffy’s crew. Luffy flashes a smile, everything about him bright through the dark. “Who else is gonna be my cook?”

Sanji says nothing, maybe there’s nothing to say, so Luffy wiggles impossibly closer and adds, “I should be thanking you guys really.”

“That's dumb,” Sanji snaps, because - well, it _is_. Still asleep, Zoro grunts behind him, an unconscious agreement to this ridiculous statement, and Sanji and Luffy share a laugh at their partner’s expense.

“You too,” Luffy mumbles, and Sanji doesn't have it in himself to feel insulted when it sounds like _love you_ to his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops this got a little long. Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Please leave a comment as you go~


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